Tomorrow Starts Today
by MiguelCC51
Summary: 4 & 1/2 years have passed, and so much has changed. Old friends return & new friends are made as Brooke & Peyton seperately come home to Tree Hill, where they were both once so happy. BREYTON plus others. Season5-AU Sequel to 'Live It Out'.
1. Empty

**Tomorrow Starts Today**

Disclaimer : Don't own any of it.

Summery : The sequel to 'Live It Out'. Four and a half years have passed by and many things have changed. Brooke is living her dream of leading a fashion empire, but thinks that the price she paid was far too high. Peyton returns to Tree Hill with an unlikely companion by her side, still stinging from her breakup two years and several months after the fact. Meanwhile Haley and Nathan, the golden couple of Tree Hill High, are just emerging from a dark time in their marriage, which has left them on somewhat tenuous ground. And let's not forget about Lucas, Mouth, Skillz and the rest of the gang, each of whom have their own problems that threaten to swallow them whole.

**1 - Empty**

(Brooke)

Brooke glared into the mirror, wondering exactly when it was that she'd become her mother. When her career had become her whole life, and things like love and happiness took a backseat to success and fame.

She sighed at the melancholy thought, shaking her head.

It would be all to easy for her to blame everything on Bitchtoria, but Brooke knew she wasn't entirely innocent in how events had taken place. She was the one who had allowed her mother to manipulate her into distancing herself from everybody truly important to her after all. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to Nathan and Haley, or even seen (much less held) little Jimmy Jam, her Godson. Her and Lucas hadn't even spoken since that time in New York almost two years ago, when he showed up in New York for an unexpected visit. That had been weird, especially since they no longer had anything in common. Add in the fact that his novel (that stupid novel) had just come out, and things got even more tense and awkward between them. And she hadn't lifted a finger or batted an eyelash when Rachel had been fired, even though on the inside Brooke had been anguished to let the troubled red-head go. Rachel had become a good friend, even if she'd tried to break her and Peyton up back in high school.

She groaned at her mental slip up, cursing under her breath.

The fashionista hadn't meant to think of her blonde ex-girlfriend, because it always brought back that horrible night of their break up. Just another casuality of Victoria Davis and her scheme to isolate her daughter from the rest of her world. Brooke wasn't stupid, she knew what her mother had been doing. She realized a long time ago that Victoria had manuevered herself into a position in Brooke's life where she appeared indespensible, showering the girl with the apparent maturnal love and attention that Brooke had so desperately craved while growing up in Tree Hill.

She frowned at her reflection, not liking the shadow of herself that was staring back.

Peyton's face flashed in her mind's eye, her accusations rang in Brooke's ears. It had been nearly two and half years since that night when Peyton had finally had enough of Victoria's games, enough of Brooke's quiet acceptance of her mother's controlling ways. She gave Brooke an ultimatum. Either tell Victoria to back off and allow them to live their lives, or it was over for them. Brooke had chosen her mother and the company they'd built, while her best friend and the love of her life walked out the door.

She whimpered at the thought, Peyton's angry, hurt expression jumping to the forefront of her mind once again.

Thoughts of her lost love, a love so deep and true that she had let slip away, were beginning to crush the brunette again. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating her with the memories of what ifs and what could've been. Before Brooke knew it, hot tears were streaming down her cheeks, making a mess of her usually flawless make-up.

"Fuck!" Brooke screamed, striking the bathroom mirror with as much force as she could muster.

Brooke stared at her now bloody knuckles, then up at the spider webbed bathroom mirror. She swallowed back the urge to continue her sudden tantrem, gritting her teeth against the pain of her bloodied hand, and reached under the sink for the first-aid kit. After bandaging her hand up, she walked into the next room of her opulant penthouse apartment and stared out at the eerie evening glow of New York City. Once apon a time, this city and all the opportunies it could bring her made the brunette deliriously happy. Now it just served as a reminder of all that she'd lost, all that she'd given up.

Picking up her cellphone from the nightstand, she punched in her assistant's familiar number.

"Hello?" A groggy girl's voice came from the receiver.

"Millicent, this is Brooke," she answered before rattling off her intinerary for the next few weeks.

"Um, okay, but aren't you worried what Victoria will have to say about this?" Millicent asked after Brook had finished, her voice a bit meek.

"Just tell her we're going on vacation," she said, then added in an annoyed huff. "Besides, it's my damn company and I haven't had a real vacation in years."

"Okay, I'll get right on it in the mor-," her assistant replied tiredly.

"No, Millie, you'll do it now," Brooke cut in politely. "I'll pay you double time, because this is urgent."

Millicent began to protest, only to be interupted again. "Brooke-"

"Okay, fine, triple pay, just get it done, Millie," Brooke sighed, knowing that she was asking alot of the girl.

"How does ninty minutes sound to you, boss?" Millie asked, suddenly chipper.

"Perfect," Brooke smirked into the phone before ending the call.

_Mom's going to have a fit when she finds out I'm not here on Monday,_ the brooding brunette mused, frowning at the Manhatten skyline once again.

"God, I hate this fucking place," Brooke muttered, deciding that this escape from her guilded cage was long overdue. _Look out, Tree Hill. Brooke Davis is coming home._

(Peyton)

It had been years since Peyton had driven these streets, viridian eyes soaking up her surroundings. Not alot had changed since the blonde had left, which both relieved and saddened her to no end. Well, that was until she stopped her car in front of the old record store for a solemn moment, wondering exactly when it had been shut down. The reverie came to a sudden end though when the driver behind her honked his horn, bringing Peyton back to the present. She shifted the Comet into gear and continued on her way, not really thinking on where she was going until it was too late.

"Huh," she scoffed softly under her breath, her gaze resting on the River Court.

Peyton parked the car and turned off the engine, lightly gripping the steering wheel as she watched a group of kids playing basketball. She smiled at the memory of how she used to be one of those kids, how everything seemed so perfect for her back then. She was happy in those days, despite all of the assorted crap that had happened to her. The good, the bad and the ugly all came to mind.

"Are we there yet?" Her travel companion asked from the back seat, having finally awakened from her slumber.

"Yeah, Gattina, we're there," Peyton smirked, glancing back at the frazzled red-head in amusement.

"God, my neck hurts," Rachel complained with a groan, sitting up to take in their surroundings. "Is that the River Court?"

"Yup."

"Then why did you say we were there?" Rachel grumbled, plopping back down. "Wake me up when we get to Naley's house."

"Yes, ma'am," Peyton chuckled, still amazed at how she ended up being friends with the brash girl with copper hair.

It had happened almost four or five months after Peyton had broken up with Brooke, and the blonde was drowning her sorrows in some bar in Los Angeles, where she'd accepted a position at a record label. She vaguely remembered the butch chick trying to pick her up that night, and how the blonde would have none of it. The butch girl refused to be rejected though and continued to harass the blonde until a flash of long red hair stepped in to rescue her, though Peyton could've gone without Rachel pretending to be her girlfriend and shoving her tongue down Peyton's throat when told to prove it. Luckily for Rachel, Peyton was so wasted that she couldn't really fight back or the red head would've ended up on her ass. It wouldn't have been the first time (or second time, for that matter) the blonde had laid out her either.

"It's too quiet in here," Rachel complained.

"Then talk," Peyton retorted.

"What happened to the stereo?"

"I shut it off."

"Why?"

"I needed to think and it was distracting me."

"You weren't thinking about her again, were you?" Rachel chided, sitting up to rest against the back of Peyton's seat.

"I liked it better when you were asleep," the blonde muttered, then added in an annoyed tone. "And no, I wasn't thinking about Brooke."

"Good, because that bitch has caused the both of us enough grief to last a lifetime," the red-head said, patting her arm.

"Somebody's still holding a grudge," Peyton teased.

"One of us has to," Rachel retorted.

"I do miss her sometimes though," Peyton admitted.

"I know you do, Peyton, but she made her choice and so did you," the red head reminded, amber eyes meeting green ones in the rearview mirror. "I say it's her loss."

"Thanks, Red," Peyton smiled.

"No problem, Legs," Rachel nodded, returning the smile before laying back down. "Now turn on the stereo, please."

Peyton rolled her eyes and did as Rachel requested, smirking at how fitting the first line of lyrics that blared out from the speakers.

_'...Shake your head, it's empty!'_

"I really wish it was that easy," Peyton muttered under her breath, cursing the thoughts of how a certain brunette that had managed to creep back into her head.

(Nathan)

It was a long, hard road to recovery for Nathan Scott after his back injury, a journey where he had almost lost everything because of self-pity and alcohol. If it hadn't been for the stubborness of his wife, Haley, and the patience his older brother, Lucas, then Nathan would surely still be wallowing at the bottom of a bottle, lamenting his plight and raging against how unfair it was that his dream had been taken away. He was still on that road of recovery, but at least he realized that he had the support from his family.

"Are you ready yet?" Haley asked, stepping into their bedroom.

"Almost, Babe," he grunted, struggling with his tie. "But this thing is not fricking co-operating!"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, let me do it," she muttered with a roll of her eyes, walking over to him. "Peyton and Rachel are going to be here any minute, and you don't even have your pants on yet!"

"Maybe this is how I wanted to greet them," he smirked, earning a playful slap on the chest from his wife.

"I still can't believe those two are together," Haley sighed, shaking her head.

"They're not together, Hales," Nathan snorted, his wife smiling at him as she finished with his tie. "At least, not in the way you're thinking."

"And what makes you so sure about that?"

"Because Peyton is still hung up on Brooke," Nathan stated with conviction, then winced as his back spasmed.

"I told you not too push yourself so hard at rehab this morning," she chided, leading him to their bed.

"Less 'I told you so', more helping, please," he groaned, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Besides, it's just... another spasm and... it'll pass."

"You need your painkillers?" Haley asked, obviously worried.

"That'd be great, thanks," he nodded.

"Is Daddy going to be okay, Mama?" Jamie asked, trotting into the room only to stop at the sight of his father in pain.

"Just another back spasm, Jimmy Jam. Absolutely nothing to worry about," Nathan assured his son, hating to have the boy see him in this state. "Why don't you go and wait for our guests while I finish getting ready?"

"Okay," the little blonde boy nodded, sprinting back the way he'd entered.

"Don't run down the stairs!" Haley shouted, handing her husband his medication before running after their hyperactive son.

Nathan took a deep breath and swallowed two pills, then decided to finish dressing himself. When he had managed to finish doing that, Nathan gingerly made his way downstairs in time to hear the doorbell go off.

"I'll get it," he called out, thinking that it could only be some of their guests arriving a little earlier than expected for dinner. It was most likely Peyton and Rachel, since Lucas and his new girlfriend wouldn't be arriving for another hour or so. It couldn't be anybody else, unless Skillz, Mouth and the others decided to show up early as well.

"Hey, Hot Shot," a once familiar face greeted when he had opened the door, smiling her dimpled smile widely at him. "Long time no see, huh?"

"Brooke," Nathan breathed, unsure of how he should feel about her sudden appearance.

**End Scene.**

**And there it is. The first chapter of 'Tomorrow Starts Today'. Tell me what you think.**

**The title of the fic comes courtesy of an album by a little Montreal band called Mobile. Check them out, they're pretty good.**

**Track 1 ~ 'Empty' by Metric (from 'Live It Out').**


	2. Romance to the Grave

**2 - Romance to the Grave**

_AN- I have a feeling some of you are going to hate me by the end of this chapter. Enjoy!_

(Peyton)

"And we're there," Peyton declared, pulling up into Nathan and Haley's driveway behind an expensive looking dark blue car.

"That's a sweet ride," her companion commented from the back seat, once again leaning forward against the driver's seat. "Always loved the way Jags look."

The blonde frowned at the new vehicle. "How can Nathan keep affording these new toys if he's not even able to stand up on his own?"

"Maybe it's Haley's?" Rachel offered in explanation, then shook her head immediately afterward. "No, Shorty would've gotten something a little more safety conscientious because of the munchkin, wouldn't she?"

"We're wasting time here, let's head inside," Peyton suggested curtly, then quickly exitted out of the Comet.

"You're so grouchy, Sawyer," Rachel teased, catching up a moment later as they approached the front door. "You need to get laid, just so you'll quit snapping my head off every five minutes."

"Maybe I just need a new best friend," the blonde retorted, rolling her eyes at the red-head's remark.

"Maybe, but you're stuck with me, Legs," the former model quipped, wrapping an arm around Peyton.

"Oh, Lord, save me from this over affectionate kitchen door," she sighed, shrugging the red-head off while hitting the doorbell in the process.

"Kitchen door?" Rachel frowned in confusion before realization hit her. "Oh, as in swings both ways! Good one!"

"Hurry up and answer the door already, Hales," Peyton begged.

"Just admit it, Sawyer," the other girl smirked. "You love the attention I give you."

"You're an ass, Red," the blonde rebuked, returning the smirk.

"What's that? You like my ass?" Rachel asked in an overly scandalized voice. "You're so naughty, Sawyer!"

"Haley, answer the God-da-" Peyton began, then stopped when the front door opened to reveal a small boy staring up at them. "Oh, hey, Jamie."

"Aunt Peyton!" Jamie cried, jumping forward with arms in the air.

The blonde bent down and scooped the boy up, pulling him into a fierce hug. "Hey, there, Little Luke!"

"Don't call me that, Aunt Peyton! I'm James," he playfully pouted, both of them familiar with this game. "Lucas is only my middle name!"

"Well, James, how's life been treating you?" Peyton inquired in a mock serious tone.

"Meh, so-so," the little boy gestured with his hand, then waved to the amused red-head watching the pair. "Hi, Aunt Rachel!"

"Hey, Jim-jam," Rachel smiled, mussing his hair. "Handsome as ever, I see."

"Thanks," he blushed, his voice lowering to almost a whisper.

"And so polite, too," she complimented. "You really are Haley James Scott's offspring, aren't you?"

"Rachel," Peyton chided her friend for teasing the boy, even if she did find his obvious crush on the red-head adorably amusing. "Leave him alone."

"Your Aunt Peyton's a buzz-kill, Jim-jam," Rachel said to the soon-to-be five year old as the blonde put him back down. "Anyhow, where's your Mama?"

"She's inside talking with Dad and a lady with brown hair," Jamie said, grabbing Rachel by the hand. "She's really pretty! Almost as pretty as you, Aunt Rachel."

"Well, I have to see this girl for myself," the red-head smirked, allowing herself to be led inside. "Get a move on, Legs!"

Peyton rolled her eyes again before following after the pair, only to a bump into Rachel when she turned the corner a moment later. "Ow, what the heck, Rachel?"

"Peyton?" A familiar raspy voice called from ahead of the red-head. "Is that you?"

_No, no, no, _the blonde panicked, her eyes tightly shut in denial. _Please, don't be her! Please, don't be her! Please, don't be HER!_

"It is you, P Sawyer," Brooke rasped, her high heels clicking on the hardwood as she approached Peyton.

Peyton took an involuntary step back, while her fiery maned best friend stepped between them to cut Brooke off.

"Not another step, Davis," Rachel growled, surprising everybody present with the amount of venom in her tone.

"Mama?" Jamie asked in a frightened voice. "Why's Aunt Rachel mad?"

"I...I can't be here," Peyton sputtered before turning around and rushing back the way she came.

"Peyton!" Brooke called out. "Wait!"

"I said, don't," the blonde heard Rachel snap just as she rushed out the door, nearly bowling over a startled brunette along the way.

The girl, who Peyton didn't recognize, jumped back, exclaiming in surprise. "Whoa!"

"Sorry," she muttered, her arms up while backing away. "Just...sorry."

"Peyton," Lucas greeted from the bottom of the stairs, grinning up at the blonde until noticing her distress. "Peyton? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I have to leave," Peyton explained lamely before continuing with her escape, then stopped suddenly at the sight of Luke's car blocking in her Comet. "No! I have to get out of here! I can't be here!"

"Peyton!" Brooke cried from inside the house, catching Luke's attention before he nodded in understanding.

"Here, take mine," Lucas said, tossing her the keys to his Mustang.

The girl, who Peyton had nearly bowled over earlier, objected loudly at that. "Lucas!"

"It's fine, Lindsey," he assured the brunette, then turned back to the distraught blonde. "Go!"

"Thanks, Luke," Peyton rasped before running head long towards his car, ripping out of the driveway without looking back.

(Rachel)

"That went well," Brooke sighed, crestfallen at the sight of the quickly departing Mustang.

"You're an idiot if you thought she'd be happy to see you, Penelope," Rachel snarked, having just caught up after apologizing to and reassuring a frightened Jamie that everything was going to be okay. The red-head felt awful for losing her temper in front of the munchkin like she did, but seeing Brooke sitting there in Naley's kitchen just brought out all the resentment and anger that had built inside Rachel since she was fired from Clothes Over Bros. She couldn't help herself though, because Rachel had really loved that job!

Brooke glared balefully over her shoulder at the red-head, who returned the wicked look in kind. _Fuck you, bitch!_

"Are things always this dramatic in Tree Hill?" The girl beside Lucas asked.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Rachel sneered, instantly taking a dislike to whoever the hell this girl was.

"Lindsey," the girl introduced herself, not backing down. "I'm-"

"She's my girlfriend," Lucas cut in, then whispered what sounded like an apology into the girl's ear. She smiled at whatever he said, grasping his hand in her own.

"How nice for you, Broody," the red-head drawled out, making her distain for him clear. Just because Peyton had more or less forgiven the hack for the lies written in his novel, it didn't mean Rachel was about to pay him the same courtesy. In fact she planned to give Broody a piece of her mind one of these days, if a decent opportunity ever presented itself. Lucas Scott was near the top of her list of most hated people in the universe, right under the mother-daughter combo of Victoria and Brooke Davis.

"Why'd you have to go give her your car, Lucas?" Brooke complained.

"That's something I'd like to know as well," Lindsey added, pulling her hand away from his in order to cross her arms over her chest.

_And me without a bag of popcorn,_ Rachel smirked, enjoying the wanna-be writer's discomfort.

"Everybody, get inside the house," Haley shouted from the door, unknowingly coming to his rescue. When nobody moved to do so though, the singer-turned-teacher added in that authoritive tone she most likely used on her students. "NOW!"

"Yes, Mrs. James Scott," Rachel intoned jokingly like she had with the teachers back in her high school. She turned towards the door, but not before sending Brooke another withering stare for good measure. The cowardly bitch decided to ignore the red-head this time though, her gaze turned back down the road where Peyton had driven off in Broody's Mustang.

"Stupid whore," the red-head scoffed under her breath before following Lucas and his man-faced girlfriend into the house.

After finally re-entering the house, Rachel took a seat on the couch where Nathan and Jamie were sitting. She glanced over at the others present, her eyes falling on each one until realizing that Brooke wasn't with them. Just as Rachel was about to comment on it though, the sound of tires squealing could be heard from outside. Rachel jumped up, sensing the others following her outside.

"Damn it, Peyton," Rachel cried, face palming herself as Brooke sped off in the Comet. "You left the stupid keys in the ignition again, didn't you?"

(Brooke)

It didn't take long for Brooke to find her P Sawyer, already having prior knowledge of all three of the blonde girl's favorite brooding spots. All she had to do was go to each location and try to spot the Mustang, making this search easy peasy for the fashionista. Her first stop was the cemetary, but that turned out to be a bust. As did her second location, which was the River Court. That just left the bridge down the road to check. Arriving a few minutes later, she despaired when she didn't immediately spot the Broodmaster 3000's car. Just as she was about to give up though, a breeze blew by and brushed some bushes aside to reveal the classic sports car hidden behind them.

Brooke took a steadying breath, then parked the car and exitted it. She carefully stepped along the path, cursing herself on her poor choice of footwear. Stillettos were not meant to be worn while bushwacking, that was for sure. When she reached the end of the trail, she spotted that familiar head of unruly curls wafting softly in the wind.

"I thought I'd find you here," Brooke said, startling the blonde enough for her to flinch.

"Great, it's you," Peyton grumbled, resuming her previous activity of staring at the river.

"Yup, it's me," she nodded, plopping down to sit near, but not too near the brooding blonde. For all Brooke knew, Peyton might suddenly feel a compulsion to throw her into the water. And while she might not look it, the skinny ass blonde was surprisingly strong.

"You know, when somebody runs in the opposite direction of you as quickly as they possibly can, that usually means they don't want you to follow them," her ex-girlfriend informed her, those green eyes gazing across the water. "Much less talk to you, for that matter."

"You're still pissed at me, I get it, Peyton," she said quietly.

"If you really got it, Brooke, then you wouldn't have followed me here!" Peyton snapped.

Brooke flinched involuntarily, surprised at how angry the blonde still was after almost two and half years.

"I'm sorry," Brooke said after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Shut up," the other girl whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, still refusing to look at Brooke. "I don't want to hear it, so just shut up."

The brunette took a deep breath as another silence overtook them, the only sound being the river's babbling water four feet below the ledge.

"I hate you," Peyton stated in an unsteady voice, piercing Brooke's heart with those three words. She turned to face the brunette with tears streaking down her cheeks again, but these ones the blonde let fall. "And I love you."

Brooke's eyes lit up at that, her hope re-igniting. Of course, that light of hope was quickly extinguished by the other girl's next words.

"But I don't think I can ever forgive you," Peyton whispered, getting up from her seat. "I'm heading back to Haley's. Don't bother trying to talk to me anymore, Brooke. I have nothing left to say to you."

And with that, the blonde left a shocked and hurt Brooke Davis sitting by herself. A moment went by before Brooke buried her face in her hands, sobbing hard at the knowledge that Peyton Sawyer, her one true love, wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.

**End scene.**

**Yup, a little over the top, but it was damned fun to write!**

**Okay, first off, I wanna say that I love Peyton. Especially the angsty, snarky, down-with-love drama queen version of Peyton. She tickles me pink. Add in everybody's favorite fiery haired sarcastic bitch, and the dialogue between them pretty much writes itself.**

**Secondly, for those wondering, the Pachel element herein is purely platonic. But Brooke doesn't know that, so keep it on the DL, okay?**

**Thirdly, be prepared for alot of Brooke bashing by many of the other characters in this fic. Personally, I adore Brooke, but she pissed off alot of people by allowing herself to be cut off from the others. Seriously, things could get ugly. Just a friendly warning, my good readers.**

**And finally, just for future reference purposes, Lucas' novel is pretty much the same giant love letter to Peyton that it was on the series. The group's opinion of it is kind of divided, which we'll delve into more as the story develops.**

**Thanks for reading, don't forget to review, and I'll see you next update!**

**Track 2 ~ 'Romance to the Grave' by Broken Social Scene (from 'Forgiveness Rock Record')**


	3. Bottom of the World

**3 - Bottom of the World**

(Haley)

"Time for bed, Jamie," Haley announced, walking into his bedroom expecting him to jumping around or something like that as he usually did. Instead though, she found him already sitting on his bed, looking far more troubled than any four and half year old boy should. "Oh, honey, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," he said, obviously trying his best to keep whatever it was bothering him hidden.

"No, Jamie," she insisted, sitting down next to him. He continued to sit in silence, worrying Haley until he finally spoke up. "What's wrong?"

"Why does Aunt Rachel hate Brooke?" Jamie asked quietly, his bright blue eyes shining up to meet hers.

_Damn,_ Haley sighed, really wishing her son wasn't so perceptive. It made things difficult at times.

"Mama?"

"Well, Jamie, it's kind of difficult to explain," she began.

"Try me," he insisted.

"Okay then," Haley chuckled a little under her breath. "Where to begin though..."

"At the start?" Jamie quirked an eyebrow, looking very much like his uncle Lucas right then.

_No wonder why strangers think Luke's his father whenever we're together in public,_ she mused.

"Mama?"

"Well, it's like this," she said, nodding. "Brooke and Peyton used to be inseparable-"

"What's that mean?"

"They were always together."

"Like you and daddy?"

"Yeah, sort of like how your daddy and I are," she confirmed, wondering if he knew the implications of that exchange before deciding to continue. "Anyway, when we all finished school, they moved to New York together. Now I'm not really sure what happened between them there, but they stopped being friends because Brooke hurt Peyton."

"She hurt Aunt Peyton?" Her little boy breathed in disbelief before his little face scrunched up in anger.

"She didn't do it on purpose, Jamie," Haley assured her son, not wanting him hating his own Godmother because she didn't explain things properly. "It just kind of happened. Your Aunt Brooke is a good person, and I'd like it if you gave her a chance. Because if she wasn't a good person, I wouldn't have let her meet you today. She's just made a few mistakes. Understand?"

He nodded, glancing up at her. "So Aunt Rachel hates Brooke for hurting Aunt Peyton?"

_I have such a smart son,_ she smiled softly, nodding back to him. "Right."

"Okay," he sighed, looking down again as if deep in thought. He nodded to himself again, then returned his gaze up to meet his mother's. "Thanks for telling me, Mama."

"No problem, Jimmy Jam," she kissed his head, then lifted him up so Jamie was standing on the bed. "Now let's get you ready for bed, huh?"

After putting her son to bed, Haley returned to the bedroom she shared with her husband. She went into the closet to changed into her pajama pants and tank top, then exitted to plop down beside Nathan, who was already beginning to doze off.

"Some birthday dinner I threw for you, huh?" Haley sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I've had worse," Nathan grunted. Sad thing is, he probably did have worse birthday parties than this, considering his father was Dan Scott.

"Lindsey seemed nice though," Haley commented.

"Yeah, she did," Nathan agreed, then off-handedly added. "I just hope Luke doesn't turn this girl gay as well."

"Nathan Royal Scott," she cried in disbelief, smacking his arm. "I cannot believe you just said that about your own brother!"

"Joking! I was only joking," he laughed, protecting himself from the playful blow. "But just so you know, I'm not the one who said it first."

"Let me guess," Haley snorted. "Rachel?"

"Rachel," Nathan confirmed.

"I wonder how Brooke is doing right now," she thought aloud, the other brunette's beaten expression popping into her mind's eye.

"After what Rachel told me Peyton went through because of her, I couldn't give a tumbling monkey fuck about how Brooke is feeling right now," Nathan grumbled before turning onto his side, his face away from her. "Good night, Hales. Get the lights, please?"

"Good night, Nathan," Haley whispered in shock at her husband's heated statement. Too tired to say anything else about it though, Haley dropped the subject and shut off the lights.

(Millicent)

"Hold your horses, I'm coming, I'm coming," Millicent Huxtable groaned while putting on her glasses, shuffling towards the hotel door slightly dazed from sleep deprivation.

"Millicent," Brooke called out from behind the door, her voice sounding raspier than usual. "Please open the door."

"Brooke?" Millie asked, opening the door to find her usually confident boss nearly in tears in the hall. "What's the matter?"

"I didn't know where else to go," Brooke blurted, rushing past her to lean against the edge of the desk. "And I didn't want to be alone, because if I'm alone, then I'll drink more. And if I drink any more while I'm feeling like I do right now, I'll do something stupid like go out and sleep with some random girl I just met in some random bar, which'll somehow get out because stuff like that always gets out. It'll then reflect badly on me and my company because then everybody will know that Brooke Davis, founder and CEO of Clothes Over Bros, is a flaming lesbo!"

"What?" Millie asked as she closed the door, taken completely off-guard by her employer's rather lengthy rant. _Did my boss just come out to me?_

"I saw my ex-girlfriend this afternoon," the fashionista elaborated, her large hazel eyes brimming with tears. "And she told me never to speak to her again."

_Yup, my boss just came out to me,_ the younger woman sighed, running her hand through her black hair.

"But how can I tell her that I'm still in love her if she doesn't want me to talk to her?" Brooke continued, ignoring the other brunette's silence. "And...why are you in your pajamas? It's only nine o'clock, isn't it?"

"I've only slept three hours in the last two days, Brooke," Millie explained, fighting against her fatigue. "So I'm completely exhausted and I was hoping to get as many hours of uninterupted sleep as I could tonight."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Millie," her boss apologized, pushing herself away from the desk with a guilty expression on her face. "I'll just-"

"Wait," Millicent sighed, unwilling to allow the other girl to leave in her current distraught state.

"But-"

"I'm awake now, so you might as well keep me company," she told Brooke, leading her boss towards the ornately designed couch. "Now sit down while I make us some tea, then we'll talk, okay?"

"Okay," the other brunette agreed, albeit relunctantly.

A few minutes later found the two young women sitting across from each other, sharing in a silence that could only be described as awkward, cups of tea in their hands.

Brooke sipped her tea, her expression one of obvious sadness. "How'd you make tea without a kettle?"

_She's avoiding the subject,_ Millie frowned, but decided to play along. "I used the coffee machine to heat the water."

"Smart," her boss complimented at almost a whisper.

"Thanks," she replied, placing her cup on the down on the coffee table before deciding to use the direct route. "So...ex-girlfriend?"

"I was kind of hoping you'd forgotten that I mentioned that," Brooke sighed heavily, putting her own cup down as well.

"When the term 'flaming lesbo' is bandied about, it's kind of hard to forget," Millie remarked, smiling understandingly at her.

"Duly noted," Brooke chuckled softly under her breath.

"Sexual orientation aside though, meeting up with an ex can be difficult on anybody. Especially if deep feelings are involved."

"I really screwed things up with her," her employer lamented, that defeated expression returning to her face.

"What happened?" Millie asked, intrigued by this previously unseen side of Brooke Davis. So much so that her earlier exhaustion was momentarily forgotten.

"My mother happened," Brooke bitterly muttered.

_Of course, she did,_ Millicent thought in annoyance. Victoria made everybody's life miserable, so why should she treat her daughter any differently?

"I wish I'd been stronger back then," she continued, her eyes cast downward. "Wish I could stand up to my mom on the really important things."

"It's not too late," she said, leaning forward to place a reassuring hand on Brooke's shoulder. "If you really love this girl, prove it to her."

"But I hurt her too bad, Millie," Brooke sniffled, looking up again with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Peyton was the one, and I completely blew it."

Millicent closed the distance between them, pulling her boss, the intrepid business woman named Brooke Davis, into a hug as the fashionista broke into tears.

(Rachel)

_Well, that's sixteen months of sobriety down the drain,_ Rachel sighed in frustration, brushing back messy curls away from her passed out best friend's face. She suspected that Peyton would do something like this, but Rachel couldn't do anything to prevent it. Not when she was still stranded at Nathan and Haley's place following the explosive Breyton reunion. She should've been here to stop Peyton from falling back onto her vices, the same vices that had nearly destroyed the blonde when Rachel had found her in Los Angeles. _I could kill Brooke for causing this. Sawyer's worked so hard to get this far, and it's all undone in a matter of hours thanks to that selfish little bitch!_

"Brooke," Peyton whimpered in her sleep, tightly gripping her pillow.

"Shush, Sawyer," the red-head soothed in a low tone. "Just sleep, okay?"

Peyton seemed to relax at the sound of her voice, those long fingers loosening their hold on the pillow.

_At least you didn't score any coke this time,_ Rachel thought, grateful for that little favor. A depressed and angry Peyton strung out on cocaine was not a pleasant sight to see, much less be around. She was billigerant enough when she was just drunk, so the blonde didn't need anything stronger exacerating her usual sunny disposition.

As the blonde slept off the drunken stupor to her left, Rachel's mind wandered back to when she'd found Peyton in that dingy nightclub back in Los Angeles.

Rachel had just gotten herself a new gig modeling with the Gap after taking a few weeks off to get clean. She was back to who she used to be before her life spun out of control, before she'd driven off Mouth and gotten lost in that lifestyle. Before Brooke had invited her to New York to work for her, only to fire her five months later. Abandoned by her friend to whatever fate had in store for her, the red-head had hit rock bottom hard. If it hadn't been for Mouth searching her out and helping her get back on her feet, Rachel didn't even want to imagine where'd she be right now. And even though she had been feeling some trepidation at returning to work in the industry at the time, Rachel just couldn't bring herself to returning to her parents a failure and proving them right when they said she was wasting her life modeling. _Stupid pride!_

Not even in LA for a week had found Rachel falling back into those bad habits of drinking and partying it up, beginning to lose herself again when she spotted HER sitting at a bar one night. She was a complete and utter train wreck to behold.

The red-head had heard about the breakup from Mouth before she had come back out west, though the details he gave had been fuzzy. She learned later from Peyton herself that Victoria was to blame for driving a wedge between them. By controlling every single aspect of Brooke's life, and how the brunette had simply let her mother do it, Victoria had succeded in doing the impossible. She had broken up Breyton, something that Rachel herself had tried and failed to do on several occassions during the first half of their senior year. Peyton didn't need to explain how much it hurt her to be abandoned like that, how betrayed the blonde felt by the girl that she loved more than life itself. It was written all over her face, told by her self-destructive activities.

After hearing this information, Rachel began to truly hate that bubbly girl she once wanted so badly to be with back in high school. _How could Brooke choose her absentee mother over the love of her life like that?_ _God, how do I hate that shrew,_ Rachel scowled, wishing that she could wrap her hands around Victoria's wrinkled neck and watch her botoxed face turn purple as she squeezed as hard as she could until the bitch's head popped off.

Seeing Peyton in that devestated state had straightened out Rachel pretty quick, serving as a cold reminder of all the shit the red-head had just recently pulled herself out from under. And even though she had never really gotten along with the blonde (she had been Brooke's girlfriend after all, a title that the red-head had desperately wished for once apon a time), Rachel could not bring herself to not help Peyton from falling into that abyss. Not when she'd almost fallen in it herself.

"Rach?" Peyton whimpered, lifting her head from the tear stained pillow.

"Yeah, Peyton?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," she informed in a weak voice.

"Waste basket's on your left," Rachel informed her, then winced at the sound of retching a second later.

_Oh, yeah,_ Rachel scowled, reaching over to hold a vomitting Peyton's hair back._ You are definitely going to pay for this, Brooke._

**End scene.**

**Okay, enough with the tears. I'll try and make the next chapter a little more light, but only a little because writing drama is fun!**

**Speaking of drama, I have a couple of emotionally charged scenes coming in future chapters, including the Brachel confrontation hinted at here. The only problem is getting there without rushing. Hmm...**

**Anyhow, feel free to review after reading and I'll see you next update. Thanks!**

**Track 3 ~ 'Bottom of the World' by Emily Haines & the Soft Skeleton (from 'What Is Free To a Good Home?')**


	4. Long Time Running

**4 - Long Time Running**

(Mouth)

"This is Marvin McFadden, and you're now up-to-date in sports," Mouth said into the camera, then met a pair of amber eyes regarding him from the couch. "How was that one?"

"Well, it was better than the last one," Rachel replied with her trademark little smirk. "But then again, the last one wasn't all that great, so it isn't saying much."

"Ah, crap," he groaned, slumping forward to press his forehead against the table in frustration. "Why can't I get this right?"

"You're just trying too hard, Mouth," the red-head commented, rising from the couch to plant her hands onto the table top across from him. "Loosen up."

"That's easy for you to say," Mouth scoffed, looking up at her. "Not all of us are like you, Rach."

"True, but since I'm a recovering drug addict, let's consider that a good thing," she shrugged, giving him that self-deprecating grin.

Mouth hated it whenever Rachel said things like that about herself and frowned in disapproval, his eyes meeting hers. _Doesn't she realize how amazing she is?_

"Quit looking at me like that," the red-head ordered, her expression changing from cocky to uncomfortable.

"Like what?"

"Like you just caught me kicking little pugs across the room," she clarified, hugging herself.

He quirked an eyebrow at that. "Pugs?"

"You know, those freaky little dogs that you can carry in a hand bag," she explained.

"I know what they are, but why pugs?" Mouth asked, curious.

"Why not?" Rachel countered.

_Oh, I almost forgot how good she is with the misdirection,_ he thought, shaking his head at how the conversation had just about drifted away from him. "I wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself."

"Damn, and here I thought I diverted your attention from that," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Why are you only person who can see right through my bullshit like that?"

He shrugged, "Maybe because I've seen you at both your best and your worst?"

"Yeah, that's probably it," she agreed, returning the shrug. There was a slightly tense silence before Rachel moved towards his bedroom door. "I should check to see if Peyton is up ye-"

"Rach," he said, rising from his chair to catch her by the elbow. "About what happened back in LA, it wasn't your faul-"

"I'm not ready to talk about that yet, Mouth," the red-head interjected, adding in a somewhat strained whisper. "I don't know if I ever will be."

"I forgave you a long time ago, Rachel," Mouth reminded, letting his grip on her go. "I wish you'd start doing the same."

"Maybe someday," Rachel promised, smiling sadly at him before continuing on her way into the bedroom to check on a sleeping Peyton Sawyer. "But not today."

Mouth sat back down on the chair, then glanced up at the camera again as the bedroom door clicked shut. He glared into the lens, suddenly angry at himself for upsetting Rachel by bringing up their past. That hadn't been his intention at all. _I just wish she'd stop punishing herself._

(Brooke)

When Haley had phoned her to pick up Jamie to spend the day with him, Brooke had been fairly surprised to say the least. Especially when one took into consideration the events of the day before. Between the dramatic reunion with Peyton to that horribly awkward dinner, the brunette was surprised that Naley even wanted their offspring to have anything to do with her. Not that she could've blamed them if they hadn't, of course. _I really should've called ahead instead of just popping back into their lives like I did._

"Miss Davis?"

"Call me Brooke, honey," the brunette replied, not comfortable with how much of a stranger she was to her own Godson.

"Okay," he nodded, looking up at her. "Brooke?"

"Yes, Jamie?" Brooke responded, smiling brightly at him.

"Can we get some ice cream?" Jamie asked, pointing to a nearby kiosk.

"Sure thing," she replied, mussing his hair. "Any particular flavor?"

"Uncle Skillz gets me strawberry," he informed.

"Strawberry it is then," the fashionista nodded, the two of them walking over to order their treat. After buying the ice cream, Brooke and Jamie walked through the park until reaching the fountain. They seated themselves on a nearby bench, just eating their cones and watching people go about their business. The sounds of people bustling about was mixed in with music from a busker fifty feet away, playing a tune that brought back happy memories for Brooke. Memories that she thought were long forgotten.

"Mama sings this to me sometimes," the little boy beside her informed, keeping his Godmother's attention here in the present.

Brooke smiled at that, happy to know that her Tutor Girl had kept her musical talent alive in some way. "This was the song for their first dance, you know."

"First dance?" Jamie asked, curious to what that meant.

"At their wedding, it was the song playing when they danced for the first time after getting married," she explained.

"Huh," he grunted, his high pitched voice making it sound cute. They continued this way until Jamie spoke up. "Brooke?"

Brooke returned her gaze to him, smiling down at him. "Yeah, Jim Jam?"

"Why did you hurt Aunt Peyton?" Jamie asked, big innocent blue eyes regarding the fashionista.

_Oh, shit! How do I answer this without coming off as the bad guy?_ Brooke panicked, really wishing right then that she had more experience in dealing with kids. "Um..."

The little boy turned his head to the side, doing a good impression of his uncle Lucas. "Well?"

_Screw it, I'm going with honesty on this one,_ the fashionista decided, wishing that adults had been more honest with her at Jamie's age. "I hurt Peyton because I have maternal issues."

"I'm four," he said, holding up his fingers for Brooke to see.

"Right, sorry," Brooke smiled, amused by his response. "It means that my mama isn't like your mama. Where Hales loves you unconditionally-"

"Four," Jamie cut in, reminding her of his age.

"She loves you for being you, Jamie, while my mother didn't start showing me that kind of love until...I made...her rich...again," the brunette said, her words trailing off at just how horrible that sounded. The fashionista took a deep breath. "God, did that sound as bad as I think it did?"

"Uh-huh," Jamie agreed, nodding.

"Finish your ice cream, and we'll head back home, okay?" Brooke told him, unable to maintain eye contact with the little boy.

The pair finished their cones in silence and rose from the bench, then began walking to where Brooke had parked her rental across the park. Halfway to the Jaguar, the brunette received a pleasant surprise at Jamie's hand slipping into her own.

"I don't think you're a bad person, Aunt Brooke," her Godson said, smiling up at her.

She smiled back at him. "Thank you, Jamie."

"Just don't hurt Aunt Peyton again," Jamie pleaded, those innocent blues regarding her once again. "Okay?"

"I'll try my hardest not to, kiddo," Brooke promised, desperately hoping that this was one promise she could keep.

(Peyton)

"No matter what happens from here on out, I'll always love you, P Sawyer," Brooke promised in her trademark sexy rasp.

"Right back at you, B Davis," Peyton returned, caressing her lover's cheek.

The brunette smiled softly. "You and me against the world?"

"Always," Peyton promised, touching foreheads with Brooke. "And forever."

"Liar," Brooke accused before the blonde jolted awake, finding herself alone in the bed of Mouth McFadden. _Can't believe he still has that horrible picture of us from our 'date',_ she mused, her eyes focused on the nightstand to the bed's left side. After studying the photo for about a minute, Peyton began to wonder about the third person in it with them. _How is Mel doing right now? I hope he's alright,_ she thought. She'd have to ask Mouth about his grandfather the next time they were alone.

_Well, at least I didn't end up sleeping with some random girl like my last relapse,_ Peyton groaned, closing her eyes to run a hand over her face. The last thing she remembered from the previous night was downing shot after shot of tequila at Tric, desperately trying to erase her ex-girlfriend's face from her memory. The blonde knew it was futile at best, but she had to try. _Rachel's gonna be so pissed at me for falling off the wagon though, _she frowned, then stopped at the unmistakable sound of sniffling coming from behind her._ What the hell?_

The curly haired blonde rolled over to discover a familiar copper haired girl sitting at the edge of the bed. "Rachel?"

"Oh, hey," Rachel replied with obvious fake cheer, wiping her eyes in a poor attempt to cover up the fact she'd been crying. "Morning, drunk ass!"

"What happened?" Peyton asked in concern, ignoring the jibe to come to her friend's aid. It was the least she could do considering how much the red-head had done for her in the last few years.

"Nothing," she denied, her emotional walls immediately back in place.

"Rachel..."

"Drop it, Sawyer," the red-head insisted, glaring at her.

"Alright, fine," Peyton relented, knowing it was useless to try and get Rachel to share once her defenses were up.

"Let's grab some brunch, because I'm starved," Rachel declared, only to freeze at the blonde impulsively grabbing her into a hug.

"Whenever you think you're ready to talk about it," the blonde whispered, holding onto the red-head. "I'm here."

She felt Rachel take a deep, shuddering breath, then replied with a whisper. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"No problem," the blonde returned, letting her go.

"Now go take a shower, because you stink," her best friend told her before promptly walking out of the bedroom.

"Way to ruin the moment, bitch," Peyton groaned, plopping onto her back to stare at the ceiling. _One of these days, Rachel Gattina, I'm going to find out whatever it is that causes someone as strong as you to breakdown when you think nobody is looking._

**End scene.**

**Okay, I admit that most of this chapter was centered around Rachel, but that's only because I wanted to lay down some groundwork concerning what happened between her and Mouth while they were in LA together. I also wanted to hint a little as to why they fell apart as a couple, but not give too much away at the same time. So, yeah...**

**Anyhow, please feel free to review after reading, and I'll see you next update!**

**Track 4 ~ 'Long Time Running' by the Tragically Hip (from 'Road Apples')**


	5. Weak In the Knees

**5 - Weak In the Knees**

(Rachel)

"Lift your end higher and turn it slightly counter clockwise," Junk ordered, holding the couch up as his best friend struggled with his end of it. "No, the other way, idiot!"

"Hey, I didn't sign up to get yelled at here," Fergie griped, looking like he was about to just drop his side and walk away in a huff.

"Is Junk giving you a hard time again, Ferguson?" Rachel asked in a condescending tone, standing off to the side with an amused expression.

"You could try and help instead of just standing there taunting everybody," Peyton chided, walking by carrying a box.

"But where's the fun in that?" Rachel smirked, then shrugged. "Besides, I'm the one buying the pizza and beer after this, so that should exempt me from any and all forms of physical labor."

"Lazy bitch," the blonde muttered before heading around the corner to use the back door, seeing as the front had a couch firmly ensconched in it.

"You guys are hopeless," Mouth stated, joining an observing Rachel. "How long they been trying to get that in there now?"

"Close to ten minutes now," she answered, still a little on edge since their conversation a few days ago. They had actually been kind of avoiding each other since then. She glanced back to see Skillz on the other end of the mattress they had placed sideways on the ground, who was quirking an eyebrow at the scene ahead of them.

"Hey, it's not our fault that you own a weirdly shaped and extremely heavy piece of furniture, Gattina," Junk complained, surprising Rachel because that was the most she'd ever heard him say at one time in the entire duration of knowing the guy. "Right, Fergie?"

Fergie simply grunted, though nobody present knew if he was actually agreeing with his best friend or not.

"Maybe you guys just suck," Skillz said, then turned to Rachel wearing that familiar grin. "Yo, Red."

"Skillz," she nodded back.

"Where's P Sawyer at?" Skillz asked, leaning forward on the mattress.

"She went around and used the back door to get inside," she explained.

"She's pretty smart for a blonde, ain't she?"

"I heard that, Antwon," Peyton said as she joined them from around the house, causing Skillz to wince.

"Success!" Junk cried, bringing everybody's attention back to the pair at the front door.

"Took you long enough," Mouth mocked, lifting the end of the mattress he'd been holding up. "Let's get this inside, Skillz."

"Right behind you, Marv," Skillz replied, dodging Peyton when she attempted to rub his bald head while walking by her.

"I know I've been asking this alot, but how are you doing?" Rachel quizzed when they were alone.

"Better, I guess," the blonde said, running a hand through her curls. "It helps that I haven't run into her since the birthday party, but then again, we've been kind of busy with getting things set up with the house, huh?"

"Which will only keep us busy for the next day or two," she added, walking over to stand near the moving van. "It won't be that easy avoiding her after that."

"I know," Peyton sighed, following after the red-head.

"We could always just go back to LA, if you want," Rachel offered, closing the door after noticing that it was empty.

"And do what?" Peyton scoffed. "I basically told my boss to go fuck himself, remember?"

"I still wish I could've been there for that," the red-head chuckled, imagining John Knight's face when Peyton told him off. Rachel had met the man once and found herself completely repulsed by him. "That guy is so sleazy!"

"Yeah, he really is," her best friend agreed. "Anyway, Brooke will probably be heading back to New York soon, so all I have to do is wait for that to happen."

"You two chicks just gonna stand there and shoot da breeze all day?" Skillz cried, exitting the house with the other three guys following them onto the lawn.

"Well, seeing as all the boxes and furniture are already inside, I guess we're done," Peyton smiled at them. "Thanks for helping us out guys."

"Yeah, and thanks again for letting us crash at your place until we could actually move into the house!" Rachel added.

"Instead of the pizza and beer, could we just head out to Tric later?" Fergie suggested, who turned to Junk for support.

"I like that idea," Junk agreed, taking the hint.

Rachel was about to turn and ask Peyton if it was alright, but didn't get the chance.

"Sounds like a plan guys," the blonded nodded. "Meet us there at nine o'clock."

"Well, since that's all settled, it's time to go get ready fo' the after party," Skillz declared after sniffing his shirt. "See ya then, ladies!"

"Bye," Mouth added before following the other boys towards their car.

"Bye," Rachel and Peyton waved as they drove off.

"So, you sure you'll be alright with Tric tonight?" Rachel asked, her tone serious.

"I'll be drinking nothing but bottled water, officer," the other girl promised.

"Alrighty then," the red-head nodded, satisfied.

The two girls turned and headed towards the house, both of them quiet until Rachel thought of something weird that she just had to share with Peyton.

"Do you suppose they're all gonna shower together?" Rachel joked.

"Wouldn't that be like trying to fit all four of them into one of those tiny phone booths?"

"Only they'd be naked!"

"Ew, just got the visual on that," Peyton shook her head, coming to a full stop in order to cringe in disgust.

"Come on, Legs," the red-head laughed, pulling the other girl towards the door of their new home. "Let's lock up and get this van back to the rental place, then hit the grocery store before it closes. We need food."

"I thought we were done working for the day," Peyton complained, reluntantly allowing herself to be led along.

"And you call me the lazy bitch," Rachel retorted.

(Lucas)

"So, is that everything?" Lucas asked, pushing the grocery cart along side his girlfriend, Lindsey.

"Hmm, let's see," she replied, inspecting the contents off their cart. "I think so...wait, we forgot the oranges."

He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. "Want me to run back to produce and grab some?"

"No, I'll do it," the brunette smiled, caressing his hand. "Take these to the register and I'll catch up."

"Okay, Linds," he smiled back, kissing her cheek before Lindsey left him to grab the forgotten fruit. Lucas continued on towards the register, thinking on just how lucky he was to have found her when his eyes fell on the unmistakable curls of Peyton Sawyer, who was currently standing in the magazine section with a pair of paperback novels in her hands. _God, she's still so beautiful_, he thought with smile. Lucas was about to greet the blonde until he noticed the title to one of the books in her grasp, _the Unkindness of Ravens_, and this caused him to hesitate for some reason.

"Oh, hey, Lucas," Peyton greeted, noticing him before the writer could even attempt to escape unnoticed. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Hey, Peyton," he returned, a little anxious. "Shopping?"

"I'm loitering, actually," she corrected with a little smirk. "Rachel's somewhere around here, probably wondering where the hell I wandered off to. Oh, well, it's my turn to piss around and be lazy for a while, since she did almost nothing when we moved into the house this afternoon."

"So you're here to stay then?" Lucas squinted, trying to ignore a strange surge of happiness at hearing that news. "What about LA?"

"Things weren't working out for me there. Besides, I missed being around my friends," the blonde shrugged, then held up his novel. "And now that I'm currently unemployed, I may finally be able to read this literary masterpiece you've written."

Lucas quirked an eyebrow, not knowing if he should be relieved or hurt at hearing that. "You haven't read it yet?"

"Sorry to say that I haven't," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "But I've heard some good things about it. Well, mostly from Haley though, so her opinion is kind of biased since she is your best friend and all."

"Yeah, well," he agreed, wondering if he should attempt to prevent her reading his novel. Lucas had no idea how she would react, seeing as Peyton was the female lead and prime romantic interest of the protaginist. Honestly, he thought that Peyton had already read it, and seeing as she still acted friendly towards him since then made Lucas think that she was okay with it. Now he had to go through the torture of not knowing how she'd react all over again.

"Marco," Rachel called out from somewhere nearby.

"Polo," Peyton returned.

"I've been meaning to ask," Lucas said, grabbing the blonde's attention again. "Are you and Rachel together?"

"We live together, if that's what you mean," she replied with a slightly confused expression, then turned to an approaching Rachel Gattina. "Hey, over here, Red."

"Well, well, well," Rachel joined them, sending a cold look towards Lucas. "If it isn't Lucas Scott."

"Nice to see you, too, Rachel," he nodded, unsure why the red-head was always so hostile towards him now.

"There you are," Lindsey said suddenly, bringing everybody's gazes to her. She walked up to them and wrapped an arm around his waist, which caused him to instinctively place his arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, babe," he smiled, then gestured to the other two girls with his free hand. "Lindsey, this is Rachel and Peyton. Peyt, Rachel, this is Lindsey."

"Yeah, we met at Nathan and Haley's a few days ago," his girlfriend nodded with a tight, obviously forced smile. "Hello, again."

"Hello, Lindsey," Peyton greeted with a warm smile, then turned to the red-head beside her. "Where's the cart?"

"Two aisles that way," Rachel replied, hiking her thumb over her shoulder.

"We should get going if we're gonna meet up with Mouth and Skillz on time," the blonde remarked, then turned back to Lucas and Lindsey. "It was nice seeing you again, Luke. Lindsey. See you guys around."

"See you," Lucas waved, then frowned in confusion at Lindsey suddenly pulling away from him. "Linds?"

"Let's go home," she answered curtly, clearly aggitated for some reason. Before he could say anything though, Lindsey turned away and headed to where Lucas had left the cart.

(Brooke)

"So, what do you think, Miss Davis?" Nancy asked, clipboard in hand as she followed Brooke around the office space.

"It's perfect," Brooke smiled, turning around to face the realitor with a huge grin. "We'll take it."

"Alright then, just let me find the proper forms here for you to sign, Miss Davis," the realitor nodded, flipping through her papers before stopping. "Shoot, I left them in my briefcase. I'll be right back."

"No need to hurry, because I'm not going to suddenly change my mind," Brooke assured the nervous looking realitor, smiling at her. _She must still be pretty new at this, because she's so jittery and eager to please._

"I'll be right back," she repeated before leaving the room.

"So we're really going to open an outlet in Tree Hill?" Millicent asked, startling her boss. She'd been so quiet the entire time of the inspection that Brooke had nearly forgotten about her.

"Yeah," she nodded, wondering at the expression Millicent was wearing. "What?"

"Nothing," Millie shook her head.

"Millie."

"It's just, this 'vacation' of yours is starting to seem more and more permanant," the younger woman stated. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Brooke said, then added with a warm smile. "I'm coming home."

"And here we are, Miss Davis," Nancy announced, re-entering the room.

Brooke walked over and signed her name on each line that the young realitor indicated, then shook her hand. "Thanks, Nancy. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

"Enjoy your new office space, Miss Davis, and have a nice day," Nancy replied, a wide smile across her face.

Brooke returned the smile before turning away to walk over to the paper covered glass door, tearing it off to reveal the logo of Karen's Cafe emblazoned on it. Her smile widened, then she turned to Millicent. "Call Haley and Lucas. We're going to celebrate!"

"I'm on it, boss," Millie grinned, finding Brooke's good mood infectious.

A few hours later found Brooke and Millicent entering Tric in high spirits, the pair heading straight to the bar for drinks while they waited for the others to arrive. Brooke scanned the room quickly to find the place was hopping. Seeing no one she knew in sight though, Brooke leaned back against the bar and regarded her assistant, who seemed a little bit out of place with her wardrobe.

"Don't you own anything alluring, Millie?" Brooke teased, pointing at her black button up shirt and knee length skirt. "You look like a librarian."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I'm dressed," Millicent groused, glancing down at her clothes before smirking up at her boss. "Besides, I hear some guys are into the whole dirty librarian look."

"That's true," Brooke laughed, but stopped suddenly when she thought she saw a head of familiar looking blonde curls across the room. _Was that...?_

"Brooke?" Millie asked in concern, following her gaze. "What? Is it your friends?"

"No, I thought I saw...nevermind," she shook her head, then caught sight of Haley, Lucas and Lindsey heading towards them from the opposite direction. "Hey, guys! Over here!"

"Sorry we're late," Haley apologized, hugging Brooke. "Nathan sends his regards and says he's sorry for not coming out, but we couldn't find a sitter on such short notice."

"Well, as long as one of you got to come out, Tutor Wife, then we're all good," the fashionista replied before turning to Lucas and his girlfriend. "Hey, there, Broody and, um, Lindsey."

"What? I don't get a nickname?" Lindsey asked, amused.

"I'll think of an appropriate one when I get to know you better," Brooke promised.

"What can I get you, Lucas?" The bartender asked, interupting their conversation.

"I'll have a beer, Owen," the blonde man ordered. "Linds?"

"Martini," she said in a tone that seemed a little short to Brooke.

"And you, Miss Davis?" Owen smiled at her, almost leeringly so.

"I'm fine, thanks," she answered, holding up the drink she'd ordered not more than five minutes earlier.

"I think he likes you," Lindsey whispered in her ear when Owen's back was turned.

"Ew, gross! He looks like one of the Mario Brothers," Brooke whispered back, causing the other girl to start laughing.

"Here are your drinks," Owen said with a slight scowl before stalking away.

"I think he heard you," Lindsey stated.

"I think you're right," Brooke shrugged. "Oh, well."

"Oh, well," the other girl agreed, shrugging as well.

The group continued on like this for a while, laughing and talking before Brooke slid off her stool. "Excuse me, I've gotta use the washroom."

"I'll alert the media, boss," Millie joked, grabbing her phone from her bag.

Brooke rolled her eyes at her assistant's joke as she walked away. She pushed the washroom door open and walked inside a moment later, only to come to a dead stop near the sinks. _So I wasn't seeing things earlier. That was her!_

"Brooke," the blonde girl whispered, a pair of green eyes meeting her own in the mirror.

"Peyton," Brooke whispered back, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

**End scene.**

**Yeah, I don't think anybody's very surprised by how this chapter ended, eh? I hope you enjoyed it though and don't forget to review.**

**Thanks!**

**Track 5 ~ 'Weak In the Knees' by Serena Ryder (from 'If Your Memory Serves You Well')**


	6. Walking With A Ghost

**6 - Walking With a Ghost**

(Peyton)

_Well, shit! What am I supposed to do now?_ Peyton thought, turning to stare at the gorgeous fashionista.

"Hi," the blonde greeted lamely after a long and awkward quiet.

"Hi," Brooke parroted, looking completely shell shocked.

"Hi," she repeated.

"You said that already," the brunette pointed out, smiling a little at her.

"Please don't do that," Peyton pleaded, leaning back against the nearest sink counter.

"Do what?" Brooke asked.

"Smile like that," the blonde sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Sorry," she apologized, though she was still smiling.

The blonde took a deep breath, then asked, "What are you doing here, Brooke?"

"I was about to use the toilet," Brooke answered, pointing to the nearest stall.

"Don't let me stop you then," Peyton muttered, moving to brush past her.

"Peyton," her ex-girlfriend stopped her, catching her lightly by the elbow. "Wait."

Peyton glanced at her hand, then up at Brooke expectantly. "What do you want, Brooke?"

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Brooke blurted, loosening her hold.

"Don't do this," Peyton pled, suddenly exhausted at even the thought of this latest encounter becoming more tense. "Please."

"I'm just saying, in case you decide to go all psycho soap star on me again," the fashion designer chuckled uneasily, causing the blonde to blush.

"You caught me completely off my guard at Nathan's," she explained, unable to meet Brooke's gaze out of embarrassment. "I may have over-reacted a little."

"A little?" Brooke snorted.

"Okay, alot," Peyton rolled her eyes before meeting Brooke's gaze once again. "But I meant what I said at the river."

The fashionista's face fell at that. "Peyton..."

"You broke my heart, Brooke," she cut in, trying to ignore the pain reflecting back from those hazel eyes. "You can't just pop back into my life and expect things to go back to the way they were."

"I understand," the other girl sighed in resignation. "But-"

"But," the blonde sighed. _There's always a but, isn't there?_

"But I was just wondering if there was any way that we could at least be civil around each other for our friend's sake," Brooke explained. "I don't want to have to make them choose between us, especially since I'm going to be moving back, you know?"

"You're moving back?" Peyton asked in a slightly higher pitch. "Why?"

"We're opening a Clothes Over Bros outlet in Tree Hill," Brooke elaborated.

"Really? And _Victoria_ approved this move?" Peyton muttered, emphasizing the name of her ex-girlfriend's mother in a hostile tone.

"She doesn't even know I'm here in Tree Hill," the other girl replied, surprising the blonde with her answer.

"Uh-huh, sure," Peyton scoffed, not quite ready to believe that.

"Well, at least not yet, anyway," she ammended, glancing away.

"Probably just a matter of time, I suppose," the blonde agreed.

"So, what do you say, P Sawyer?" Brooke turned to regard her again.

"We just have to be civil, right?" Peyton asked after a short silence. "That's it?"

Brooke nodded, hope apparent in her beautiful hazel orbs. "Yeah."

"I can do civility, Brooke," the blonde nodded before continuing on her way out, trying to ignore the brunette letting out a loud sigh of relief as the door closed shut. Peyton shook her head, then began to walk to rejoin her friends, only to stop when she noticed Haley and that Lindsey were heading towards them. She swiftly turned around and discreetly exitted Tric, simply wanting to avoid anymore unnecessary drama since Lucas's new girlfriend seemed to hate Peyton for some reason. The girl was terrible at hiding her distain for the curly tressed blonde, despite the fact that they didn't really know each other. Deciding that she had more important things to worry about than some strange girl with a chip on her shoulder, Peyton brushed the matter aside in order to deal with this latest twist in her relationship with one Brooke Penelope Davis.

Once arriving outside and locating her car, Peyton got into the driver's seat and pulled out her cellphone.

_[Not feeling well. Went home. C-ya there]_

Peyton tossed aside her phone onto the passenger seat after quickly texting Rachel, then started the engine and began to drive away. She desperately needed to clear her head, feeling a little drained by this latest encounter with her ex-girlfriend. She began to wonder if this truce with Brooke was such a good idea, or simply Peyton setting herself up for more disappointment. _How did we get so messed up, Brooke? How did we end up here?_

"I could really use a tequila right now," Peyton muttered under her breath, pulling up to her destination, which turned out to be the Tree Hill Cemetary. _But I guess a late night talk with Mom will have to do._

(Brooke)

"Oh, my God, I could really use a tequila right now!" Brooke exclaimed, falling forward against the bar. She was still a bit shaky from her impromptu summit with her ex-girlfriend, so saying that she needed something to calm herself was an understatement. _I thought for sure that Peyton was going to tell me to go fuck myself!_

"You look all sorts of hyper," the bartender from earlier commented, placing the shot in front of her.

"Oh, yeah," she grinned, then downed her shot without waiting for the salt or lemon. "Thanks, I needed that!"

"So, did you meet someone who doesn't remind you of Luigi or Mario that you like?" Owen asked, smirking at her.

"Right, sorry about that," the brunette apologized with a wince, then smiled weakly at him. "Forgive me?"

"I'm not your type, so I guess you're forgiven," the tall burly man chuckled, sliding another drink towards her. "But only on the condition that you tell me what had you grinning like a madwoman, Miss Davis."

"Well, I just ran into my ex and we actually had a conversation that didn't result in either one of us in tears," Brooke grinned back at him again, unable to keep her happiness to herself. "Granted, we're only agreeing to be civil, but-"

"I should've known you'd be the one responsible for Peyton ditching out early," an outraged looking Rachel accused, spinning Brooke around to face her.

_Shit, I forgot that Rachel might be around. Wait, what did she say about Peyton?_ Brooke wondered, looking around to see that the blonde was nowhere to be found.

"If you've done anything to upset her again," Rachel growled, sticking a finger in her face. "I'm gonna kick your ass, Davis!"

"I am not in the mood for your bullshit right now, whore," Brooke batted the red-head's hand away, then turned to leave.

"Too bad, Donatella," the red-head sneered, grabbing her by the elbow to prevent her escape. "I have something to say to you and you're not going anywhere until you've heard it!"

"Get your hands off me!" Brooke shouted, pulling out of the other girl's grasp.

"Okay, let's take this down a notch, ladies," Owen said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"What are you even doing back in Tree Hill, huh?" Rachel cried, ignoring the burly barkeep in order to continue in her verbal barrage. "It's not like anybody really wants you here! Oh, poor little Brooke, probably running away from mommy dearest! What a fucking joke! Can't you see that Peyton wants nothing to do with you? None of us do!"

"You don't have any idea what you're talking about, you God-damned slut!" Brooke shrieked back.

"Oh, I think I do," her former model glowered at the brunette. "Especially since I was the one who found Peyton in LA, strung out on cocaine and trying to drink herself to death because you chose your _loving_ mother over her! Your damned precious company over her!"

"What?" Brooke rasped, feeling like the red-head had just punched her in the stomach. For that first split second the brunette wondered if Rachel was lying, but soon realized that she wasn't. There was just far too much rage radiating from the red-head for her statement to be false.

"Okay, Rachel," Mouth said, arriving with Skillz and the others in an attempt to pull the red-head away from a flabbergasted Brooke. "That's enough."

"No, it's not," Rachel snapped, shrugging him off. "I think it's about time somebody told this bitch just what she's done and it might as well be me since the rest of you are too chickenshit to do it!" The red-head turned back to Brooke, grabbing the fashion designer's attention again. Rachel glared at her with an intensity that would've frightened Brooke if she wasn't already frozen in shock. "Listen up and listen good, Penelope, because I'm only going to say this once," she seethed with an outstretched index finger pointing towards the fashionista, her face almost as red as her hair. "You are not going to hurt Peyton again. I won't allow it. She's already suffered enough because of you, so from here on out, you're going to back the fuck off, bitch!"

"Okay, Red, you're way outta line!" Skillz shouted, gripping the fiery red-head by her shoulders and forcibly leading her away.

"You're going to stay away from Peyton, Davis!" Rachel ranted, being dragged away by Skillz, Fergie and Junk. "Or I'm going to make you regret it!"

"Shut up an' get moving!" Skillz yelled, clearly angry with her behavior.

"Are you going to be alright?" Mouth asked, remaining behind with Millicent and Lucas.

"No, Mouth, I'm not," Brooke whispered, trembling.

"Let's head back to the hotel, boss," Millie suggested, slipping her arm around the fashionista before glancing at Mouth. "Thanks, I've got this."

"Okay," Mouth nodded before following after the others. "See you guys later."

"Is there anything I can do, Brooke?" Lucas asked, running a hand through his hair.

"No, we just need to get out of here," Millie spoke up, seeming to sense that her employer was on the verge of breaking down. "Tell Haley and Lindsey bye for us. Good night, Lucas."

"Good night, girls," the writer waved, left to stand alone near the bar.

Millicent led her boss out of Tric, her arm around the shaking fashion designer. Brooke didn't know how had she managed to do it, but the brunette somehow made her way into the passenger seat of the rented Jaguar before the guilty sobs finally escaped her.

"And the night started out so well," Millie sighed, starting the engine.

(Lindsey)

"What was that all about?" Lindsey asked, finally having fought her way through the crowd to reach Lucas near the bar. "Where did Brooke and Millicent go?"

"Was that Rachel I heard shouting?" Haley added, trailing up behind Lindsey to join the couple. "What's going on, Luke?"

"One question at a time, guys," the basketball player-turned-author implored, still looking abit taken aback.

"What happened?" Haley asked, sending a soft apologetic smile at Lindsey. She nodded back in understanding, especially since she'd been wondering the same thing herself.

"From what I could gather, apparently Peyton was here tonight and just suddenly took off without telling her, um...girlfriend that she was leaving," Lucas explained, tripping over the girlfriend part for some reason. Lindsey would probably have been more curious as to why if Lucas hadn't mentioned the blonde's name. Just him saying HER name stirred something primordial and vicious in Lindsey. "And-"

"And Rachel, being who she is, went completely off the deep end after taking notice of Brooke's presence," Haley finished, palming her forehead before running a hand through her hair. "Right?"

"Right," Lucas confirmed with a sigh before continuing. "Mouth, Skillz and the guys dragged her off, but not before Rachel laid the verbal smackdown on Brooke."

"That must have been ugly," Haley grimaced.

"Yeah, that's a bit of an understatement," he nodded. "Needless to say, Brooke was shaken up and Millie took her back to their hotel."

"What I'm wondering about all this is why Brooke and Peyton don't get on," Lindsey cut in, feeling out of the loop. "I thought they were the best of friends in high school."

"Well, actually," the other girl began, only to be interupted by her best friend.

"Not our place to say anything about that, Hales," Lucas stated.

Haley looked like she was about to protest, but closed her mouth to nod in relunctant agreement. "I guess you're right."

"Right about what?" Lindsey asked, starting to get very annoyed. "What?'

"Drop it, Linds," Lucas said before turning to walk away without another word.

"He did not just do that," she growled, furious with being brushed off.

"Lindsey, wait," Haley spoke up, resting a hand on her forearm. "Please?"

Lindsey looked back at Haley, her anger somewhat sapped by the young mother's pleading expression.

"Brooke and Peyton will always be a sore spot for Lucas," Haley explained after a short silence passed between them. "It's best not to bring up the past where they're concerned, especially when it pertains to Peyton."

"Why's that?" Lindsey quizzed, her stomach muscles tightening in dread. _Oh, God, he's still in love with Peyton, isn't he?_

"I can't give you the exact details, because I don't really have the right," the shorter woman said, still wearing that pleading expression. "Just be patient with him, okay? I can see that Lucas loves you, but he's just really confused by all this Breyton business being stirred up again. It's probably bringing up some old feelings and bad memories for him."

She frowned at the unfamiliar term. "Breyton?"

"Linds?" Lucas cut in, his tone noticably softer. Almost apologetic. "Let's go home."

"But-" Lindsey started, only to stop at the look in his eyes. She glanced back Haley, then back at her boyfriend. "Shouldn't we give Haley a lift?"

"Hales?"

"I'll take a taxi home," Haley smiled softly, sliding off the stool she'd taken while talking with Lindsey. She hugged Lindsey and Lucas in that succession, whispering something in her best friend's ear that the other girl couldn't hear.

"I'll think about it, Hales," he replied, frowning down at her.

"Guess that'll have to do," she shrugged, giving him a strange, little smile. "Good night, guys."

"Good night," they said at the same time.

Later, when the couple arrived at home and gone to bed, Lindsey couldn't help but wonder what Haley had whispered in her boyfriend's ear. Just as she was beginning to doze off, Lindsey felt strong arms encircle her waist.

"I'm sorry for walking off like that," he apologized, then added. "I'm sorry for how weird I've been acting the last week, too."

"It's alright, Lucas," she whispered, slipping a hand down to entwine their fingers. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do," she lied, hoping that her voice didn't give her away.

"I love you," he whispered drowsily.

"I love you, too," Lindsey whispered. She shut her eyes and tried to will herself into restful slumber, but knew that it wouldn't be coming anytime soon.

Not as long as his past with Peyton Sawyer was haunting their relationship.

**End scene.**

**Peyton really caused alot of trouble in this chapter, didn't she?**

**Thanks for reading, and please don't forget to review!**

**Track ~ 'Walking With a Ghost' by Tegan & Sara (from 'So Jealous')**


	7. Try Honesty

**7 - Try Honesty**

(Millicent)

"No, that doesn't go there," Brooke complained, running up to one of the burly contractors. "It's supposed go over there!"

The worker nearest to her frowned in annoyance. "But you said that this was supposed to go over here a half hour ago, Miss Davis."

"Well, now I'm saying that it should go over there," she snapped before stalking into the back room, muttering under her breath about good help being hard to find.

"Why don't you go for lunch, Steve?" Millie said, stepping up to where the foreman was fuming with several of his fellow workers. "I'll have a word with Miss Davis, and see if I can get her to calm down, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said before silently signalling his men to follow him out.

Milie sighed, having noticed how short Brooke had been with everybody around her ever since that ugly encounter at Tric a week ago. While Millie had done her best to keep any potential problems caused by Brooke's foul mood to a minimum, even the assistant's diplomatic abilities had their limit. _Time for some tough love, boss!_

After the contractors had left, Millie waited for her employer to come out and demand to know why it was so damned quiet. _4...3...2...1..._

"Why the hell is it so damned quiet out here?" Brooke demanded, entering the room to find only her and Millicent present. "Where is everybody?"

"I sent them out for an early lunch before they could plan a wildcat strike on you," Millie informed in a calm voice.

The fashionista frowned in confusion. "Wildcat strike?"

"It's just another term for a walk out. And seeing as you've been acting like Victoria the last couple of days, I wouldn't have blamed them for doing so either," she stated, knowing exactly how to get through to the other girl.

"I have not been-" Brooke began, then sighed in defeat. "Shit, I have been acting like my mother, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have," Millie nodded in agreement. "And I think I know why."

"Not this again, Millicent," the fashionista frowned at her assistant. "How many times do I have to say that I don't want to talk about it?"

"I'm not asking you to talk to me about it, Brooke," she replied. "But you do have to talk about it to somebody because it's affecting your work."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that," her boss sighed, pressing her palm against her forehead.

"Look, I know that you've been beating yourself up because of what that Rachel girl told you, boss," the younger woman said, feeling empathy for the world famous fashion designer. "But how do we know that she was even telling you the truth?"

"Because while Rachel may be a lying and conniving bitch when she wants to be, she wasn't lying about what happened to Peyton in LA," Brooke insisted, her voice becoming raspy from sudden emotion. "What happened because I wasn't brave enough to stand up to my mom when it really mattered."

"Well, even if that's how it is, you did say that Peyton was willing to be civil, right?" Millie reminded.

"Yeah, she did," Brooke brightened up a little at that. "Didn't she?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, then suggested. "So why don't you invite her to the opening next week?"

Her employer's smile faltered, turning to give her assistant a skeptical glance. "What?"

"Well, if she shows up, it tells you that she's trying, right?" Millicent reasoned.

"I don't know, Millie..."

"Just think about it," she insisted, not wanting to push the subject too far.

"Okay, I'll think about it," Brooke nodded, then smiled at her. "But if you ever compare me to my mother again, I'm so firing you!"

"That's fair, I guess," she chuckled, glad to see her boss smiling again.

"Brooke Penelope Davis!" Victoria shrieked as the front door was whipped open all of a sudden, startling both girls enough for them to jump a little. "What the hell do you think you're doing back in this hell hole of a town?"

_Speak of the devil,_ Millie frowned, turning to regard the older woman standing near the front door. _And she shall appear!_

"Mom?" Brooke asked, staring at her mother in surprise. "How did you find me?"

"Well, when you stupidly charge some office space and a house to the company, it made my job pretty easy," Victoria said, her tone extremely condescending. She glanced at Millicent with distain, narrowing her eyes at her daughter's assistant. "I should've known you'd be here as well. You're never too far from your meal ticket, now are you?"

"She's here because I asked her to be, mother," Brooke stepped between them. "Millie is my personal assistant, after all." The brunette glanced back at Millie, then winked at her quickly. "Speaking of which, I need you to run that errand we were just talking about."

"Got it, boss," Millie nodded in understanding, taking the hint. Besides she really didn't want to be here to witness this reunion between mother and daughter. The usually timid assistant quickly sent a glare at Victoria's back while Brooke had the witch's attention, then headed out the door with her cellphone in hand. She momentarily wondered on how she was going to get a hold of her employer's ex-girlfriend when it dawned on her that Haley may know. After having dialed the required number, she waited for the young mother to answer her phone.

Three rings went by before Haley finally answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, Haley," Millie greeted in her professional tone, walking down the street towards a park. "This is Millicent, Brooke's assistant. I'm not sure if you remember me or not, but I was wondering if you could help me with something."

(Haley)

"I usually don't eat steak for lunch, but this is really good," Peyton remarked, then shoved another piece of meat into her mouth. "I mean, really, really good!"

"A lesbian who enjoys meat in her mouth," Haley smirked, quirking an eyebrow at the blonde. "Who'd have thought?"

Her friend raised an eyebrow back, clearly surprised by the quip. "Did you really just say that?"

She shrugged at the blonde, then grinned back and popped a fry into her own mouth.

"You are just full of surprises, Haley James Scott," Peyton chuckled good-naturedly, then cut herself another piece of beef to consume. "How's Jamie doing? I bet he must be happy to have finally met his Godmother."

"Smooth, Peyton," Haley snorted. "I almost didn't notice the snarkiness there."

"I'm not being snarky, Hales," the blonde girl denied, then muttered. "Besides, Rach is snarky enough for the both of us as it is."

"See, when you say stuff like that," she replied, pointing at her with a fry. "I can't help but think that there's something more than friendship going on between the two of you."

"Oh, my God, you're as bad as Luke," Peyton sighed, slumping a bit in her chair. "You know, when he ran into me at the market last week, he asked me if Rachel and I were together. And he was being a little creepy in the way he asked, too."

_Please tell he didn't act like a jealous boyfriend,_ the young mother begged which ever deity that might be listening. "Creepy? How?"

"Like a jealous boyfriend kind of creepy," she answered, confirming her friend's fear before adding in a mystified voice. "And I can't figure out why."

"You're kidding, right?" Haley scoffed, immediately thinking of Lucas' book.

"What do you mean by that?" Peyton asked back, surprised.

Haley was about to explain when a disturbing thought popped into her head, causing her to stop suddenly. _Wait a second! Peyton's had a couple of rough years since 'Ravens' was released, so maybe she hasn't read it yet. Damn, this could get really messy! Damn it, Luke! What did you get me in the middle of?_

"Hales?"

"Nevermind," she shook her head, deciding to change the subject. "You've heard that Brooke bought a house in Tree Hill, didn't you?"

"She bought a house?" Peyton asked in disbelief, her eyes wide at this news.

"Yeah, it's a nice two story on Oak Street." she confirmed. "Four bedrooms, I believe."

"Looks like she's serious about moving back," the other girl grumbled, taking a sip of her drink.

"I know you're still hurting fro-"

"Don't," Peyton warned, her green eyes flashing.

"One of these days either you or Brooke are going to have to tell me what happened in New York," Haley complained, letting out an annoyed sigh. "Because being in the dark when two of my closest friends are feuding sucks it hardcore."

The blonde's expression softened, like she just realized that Haley was caught in the middle. "I'm sorry, Hales, but I'm still not comfortable talking about what happened, you know? It was like when you and Nathan were seperated back in senior year, except without the hope of reconciliation."

"Do you still love her?" Haley blurted without thinking, immediately regretting asking when she noticed Peyton's pained expression. "Sorry, forget I asked that."

The curly haired blonde sighed before nodding. "Yeah, I think I'll always love Brooke," she confirmed, adding in a sad tone. "But I don't know if I can ever trust her again."

"Did she cheat on you, or something?" She asked, unable to stop herself from pressing for more information.

"God damn it, Haley," Peyton cried in distress, causing several of their fellow nearby restaurant patrons to regard them in surprise. "I just said I didn't want to talk about it!"

"Okay, sorry," she apologized, sheepishly glancing at the other people.

Peyton sighed, looking guilty for her outburst. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that." She sniffled, then continued. "It just hurts. I mean, it really fucking hurts. Even after all this time, it still feels like it happened just yesterday." A tear rolled down her cheek, which Peyton wiped away. "It hurts to find out that the person you love doesn't love you back as much."

"Oh, Peyton," Haley said sympathetically, only to be interupted by her cellphone going off in her bag. "Shit, who the hell could that be?"

"Answer it and find out, Einstein," the blonde suggested with a forced giggle.

"Hello?" Haley greeted, annoyed with the timing of this call. She listened to the person on the other end, who turned out to be Brooke's assistant, Millicent. "Uh-huh, yeah, I remember you. What do you need, Millie?"

"Do you know how I could get a hold of Peyton Saywer?" Millicent asked, surprising the soon-to-be full time teacher.

"Funny that you should ask that, because I'm sitting right across from her now," she replied, raising her eyebrows. "Did you want to talk to her?"

"Yes, please," the younger girl said excitedly.

"Here," Haley said, handing the cell out for Peyton to take it.

"Who is it?"

"Just take the cell, Peyt."

Peyton made a face, then took it and placed it against her ear. "Yes, this is Peyton Sawyer." Beat. "Tell her that I'll think about it." Another beat. "Yeah, you have a nice day, too, Millicent. Thanks."

"What was that all about?" Haley asked, wondering at the blonde's befuddled expression.

"Brooke's assistant just invited me to the Clothes Over Bros grand opening," she answered numbly, handing back the cellphone.

"Huh," the young mother lightly grunted.

"Huh," Peyton parroted, nodding.

(Peyton)

Following her lunch with Haley, which came to an end when her friend had gone back to work, Peyton decided to go for a walk along main street before heading back towards the house she shared with Rachel. She took her time during her stroll, not looking forward to returning to the tense situation at home. She had read Rachel the riot act after learning about the red-head's confrontation with Brooke, telling her best friend that she didn't have the right to do what she'd done. Rachel called her a stupid bitch for letting Brooke off the hook, to which Peyton shouted back that the red-head was an overbearing whore who didn't know how to mind her own business. Needless to say, it was an ugly scene. They had barely spoken to each other since then.

"Peyton? Is that you?"

"Huh?" Peyton said, looking up at the person who'd just pulled her out from her reverie. A split second went by before she recognized the bearded man in front of her, bringing a smile to her lips. "Hello, Max," she greeted, stepping forward to hug him. "It's been a while."

"So it has," he laughed, hugging her back. "Almost five years, if I'm not mistaken."

"Sounds about right," she agreed, letting him go to step back and regard him with a critical eye. "Looking good, buddy."

"You do, too," he said, returning the compliment with a shrug. "What brings you back to town? Visiting your dad?"

"My dad lives in Charlotte now," she informed. "And to answer the other question, I've moved back actually. I'm living with Rachel right now."

"Rachel Gattina?" Max asked, surprised. "I thought you two hated each other."

"Things change," she shrugged. "Though one could probably plead a case for that assessment based on recent events."

"Hmm?"

"We got in a fight," Peyton elaborated.

"Lover's quarrel?" Max joked.

"Not funny," she frowned, really getting tired of how everybody just assumed that she and Rachel were a couple.

"Sorry," he apologized, then pointed to the record store a few building back the way Peyton had come from. "I was just going to head inside, clean up a little in case somebody comes around to have a look. Maybe have a beer or something while I do that. Wanna join me?"

"Sure, why not?" Peyton nodded, following after him. They reached the store in short order, where Max handed her the keys. "What's up?"

"Open up while I run across the street for the drinks," he said, turning away only to stop to add. "Oh, the security code is still the same as when you used to work here, by the way. I'll be right back."

"Cool," she replied, doing as he requested. The blonde stepped inside and headed to where the security pad was located, punching in the code before turning to regard the record store. _How depressing,_ Peyton sighed, hating to see one of her favorite places in Tree Hill abandoned and nearly empty. She wandered down the nearest aisle, gliding a finger along the empty record shelves, her mind a thousand miles away.

"You're really in it, aren't you?" Max asked, bringing her attention back.

"Excuse me?" Peyton asked back, meeting his gaze.

"You're deep in thought," he explained, walking over to hand the blonde a ginger ale. "It's what my mom always says whenever somebody is pensive and quiet."

"Yeah, I guess I was," she nodded, taking the bottled drink. "Thanks, but I thought you were gonna grab some beer."

"Figured it was too early in the day," he shrugged, popping the cap off his own bottle and lifting it in the front of him. "To old friends reunited."

"To old friends," she agreed, clinking her bottle against his. "Reunited."

"So, how is Brooke?" Max asked after a short silence.

"Successful," Peyton answered, leaning against the nearest stand. "Famous. Everything she ever wanted to be back in high school."

"Good for her," he said, quietly adding in a quiet tone. "Sorry that it didn't work out for you two."

"Me, too," she nodded.

"When did you guys breakup?"

"Two years, five months and three weeks ago," Peyton answered, surprised at how easy it was to open up to the lanky man across from her.

"You still talk?" Max inquired.

"Sort of," she shrugged, shifting her gaze to the bottle in her grasp. "She's moved back to Tree Hill, too."

"That must be awkward."

"Extremely," she nodded, looking up to meet his sympathetic expression. "She wants to be civil, for the sake of our mutual friends. I agreed, which was one of the reasons for my argument with Rachel." He gave her a quizzical look. "Rachel hates her. Passionately so, and she had no qualms on letting Brooke know either."

"The best friend and the ex," he said, nodding in understanding. "She's probably just worried about you getting hurt again."

"I know, but that didn't give her the right to go off on Brooke like she did," Peyton sighed, then gestured at the empty shop with a sweeping motion. "Enough about me though. Why'd you close the store, Max?"

"The internet was cutting into my profits, plus the fact that my heart really wasn't in it anymore," he replied before taking another swig from the pop bottle. "Kids don't appreciate music like they used to, Peyton. It's all crappy pop music and hip-hop, techno shit now-a-days. Nobody listens to anything remotely edgy or groundbreaking anymore. It's damned depressing."

"Still channeling 'High Fidelity', I see," Peyton smirked.

"I'm not a snob," he denied with a chuckle, getting the reference immediately.

"I'm only teasing," she said, then met his eyes again. "But I know where you're coming from. It's the main reason why I quit my job at the label in LA. It just got tiring to watch some really good talent get denied contracts, while these talentless acts got signed because of their image. It was all style, no substance. I finally had enough and resigned my position."

"That sucks," Max commiserated.

"Yeah," she shrugged, then took another sip of ginger ale before asking. "Any idea what you're gonna do with the store?"

"Nope," he shook his head, finishing off his drink. "But I'm open to suggestions."

Peyton quirked an eyebrow at that, an idea suddenly popping into her head. "Really now?"

"I know that look," Max said, straightening up. "What's going on under that curly mess of hair, Sawyer?"

"Well, it's just a rough idea right now, but I'm thinking that maybe we could pull an Ani DiFranco and start our own record label," Peyton said, grinning at the slim man standing six feet away. "Except we won't be recording and releasing our own material so much as recording and distributing other people's, while at the same time allowing them to retain creative control of said material."

"An independant label, hmm?" Max asked, brows raised. He was clearly intrigued. "Sounds like fun. Think of a name yet?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," Peyton nodded, excited at this turn of events.

"Yeah?"

The blonde smiled, "Red Bedroom Records."

**End scene.**

**Yeah, it's got a bit of a filler feel to it, I know.**

**Hmm, I just realized that all the tracks thus far have been by bands from Canada. Guess I'm more patriotic than I give myself credit for, eh?**

**Anyhow, thanks for reading and don't forget to review. See ya!**

**Track 7 ~ 'Try Honesty' by Billy Talent (from 'Billy Talent')**


	8. Hasn't Hit Me Yet

**8 - Hasn't Hit Me Yet**

(Nathan)

"Beer? Check. Potato chips? Check," Nathan nodded, an item in each hand. He made his way into the living room, then placed his wares onto the coffee table before plopping on the couch. Grabbing the TV remote, he began channel surfing in hopes of finding something interesting. "CSI, Nascar, Doctor Who, Yankees at Braves, CSI, Bones, CSI again, more CSI...how many times a day is that damn show on anyway? More CSI...oh, this is just ridiculous!"

"Nathan Royal Scott!" Haley cried, walking into the living room. "What do you think you're doing?"

_Here we go,_ Nathan sighed, glancing up to see his annoyed wife. Her appearence was beautiful as per usual, even more so actually since Haley was dressed up to the nines. It almost made him feel guilty for his current actions. Almost.

"I'm waiting," she said after a lengthy silence on his part.

"I was watching some TV," he answered matter-of-factly. "Looking good, Hales. So, why are you all gussied up?"

"You're seriously asking me that?" Haley frowned, not amused.

"Yes, I am," he affirmed, playing dumb. Nathan knew exactly why she had put on her finest clothing and jewelry.

"The grand opening is tonight," she reminded, then gestured to his set up on the coffee table. "Why aren't you ready yet?"

"I'm not going," Nathan stated, taking a swig from his beer.

"And what am I supposed to tell Brooke?" Haley demanded, hands on her hips in obvious impatience. "She's expecting us to be there in fifteen minutes!"

"Tell her I'm watching Jamie," he replied flippantly before taking another swig from his beer.

"Brooke knows we have a nanny now, so that's not going to work this time," his wife informed, tapping the toe of her shoe. "Besides, Carrie and Jamie are coming along, too. Now, go get dressed."

"Do I really have to go, too, Hales?" Nathan whined, stubbornly trying to avoid their high school friend.

"Why are you being so stubborn with this grudge, Nathan?" Haley cried, finally having had enough. "Even Peyton, the friend who you're inexplicably trying stick up for by avoiding Brooke, is going to be there tonight."

Nathan glanced up in surprise. "Really?"

"Well, she's been invited, and I'm kind of curious to see if she'll show up," she said, then shot him a curious look. "Aren't you?"

"Fine, but I'm doing this under protest," he relented after another long silence, unwilling to admit that his own curiousity was starting to get the better of him.

"Thank you," she said dryly.

"There wasn't anything on TV, but CSI anyway," he muttered, walking up the stairs.

"Ooh, I love CSI," Carrie chirped as he made his way past the perky girl.

"Figures," Nathan muttered under his breath, once again finding himself annoyed with the overly cheerful nanny who Haley hired three days earlier. Walking into the bedroom he shared with Haley, Nathan meandered over to the closet and picked out the first suit within reach. After half-heartedly getting dressed, he exitted the bedroom to join his wife, son and the annoying nanny. He held his arms out to the side and spun around, causing Jamie and Carrie to snicker at his antics. Haley was far from amused though, glaring at him. He grinned back. "How do I look?"

"Good enough," she sighed, exasperated by his lack of effort. "Tuck in your shirt properly, Nathan. If we hurry, we'll make it there just in time."

With that said, Haley spun on her heel and stalked out, their son following closely behind her. Nathan shrugged, then began tucking in his shirt.

"I think you look great," Carrie whispered in his ear, surprising the former high school basketball star. He had honestly forgotten the nanny was even there, assuming that the girl had gone after Jamie. She smiled flirtatiously over her shoulder, then left him standing by himself in the foyer.

"What the hell was that about?" Nathan wondered aloud, not quite sure what to make of what just happened.

(Mouth)

"I'm feeling completely out of place here," Mouth stated, regarding the champagne flute in his grasp with a curious expression. "I also feel like this thing is going to bust in my hands at any second."

"That's why I grabbed a beer, dawg," Skillz chuckled, taking a sip from his bottle.

"There's beer?" Mouth turned to him with raised eyebrows. "Where did you score that?"

"Over there, beside the shorty dressed like a librarian," his friend informed, gesturing with his beer to a girl wearing black rim horned glasses.

"She has a name, Skillz," he chided, then downed the contents of the delicate looking glass. He scrunched his nose after swallowing the bubbly drink, unused to the sensation it caused. _Yup, I now know that champagne is not the drink for me._

"I suppose she does, but I didn't catch it," Skillz shrugged, then smirked sidelong at the blonde beside him. "Why don't ya go find out, Marv?"

"I think I will," Mouth said, returning the smirk. He handed his friend the empty glass. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," he heard Skillz chuckle from behind him.

_She's even cuter in regular lighting,_ Mouth thought, remembering the night he'd first seen her. If it hadn't been for the circumstances of that evening, Marvin might have bought her a drink or something. _Damn, Rachel and her 'hate on' for Brooke!_

"Hey, Mouth," Lucas greeted, catching him off guard. "How you been doing, buddy?"

"Oh, hey, Luke," he replied, watching helplessly as the spectacled goddess walked in the opposite direction of his impromptu conversation with Lucas Scott. "I'm alright, I guess. You?"

"You seem distracted," Lucas noted, following his gaze. "Oh, sorry. I'm getting in your way, aren't I?"

"No, you're not," he denied, losing sight of the girl.

"Go get her," the other blonde encouraged, gesturing him on his way. "I've got to go find Lindsey, anyway."

"I'll find you guys later," Mouth promised before heading in the direction she'd gone, meandering through the other party-goers and around several clothing stands in search of the nameless girl. "Damn it, where'd she go?"

"Where'd who go?"

He spun his body around to find the girl standing there and she was giving him an inquistive look. "Oh, hey, there."

"Hello," she greeted, smiling at him. "Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

"Have you seen, Brooke?" Mouth blurted without thinking. _Doh!_

"She's hanging around the register, I think," the girl answered, pointing in the general direction of where Mouth had last seen his friend. "Come on, I'll show you."

"Actually, I know where Brooke is," he admitted, feeling like a complete idiot. "I was-"

"Millicent, I have a few questions about these numbers from last week," a somewhat familiar looking woman interupted, who nodded in recognition and coolly greeted him. "Marvin."

"Mrs. Davis," he replied politely, quickly remembering how he knew her.

"Would you excuse us for a moment, Marvin?" Victoria asked, though he could tell that this was not a request.

"Sure," he sighed, deflated.

"I'll be right back," Millicent promised, touching his arm before following Brooke's mother into the back area.

"I'll be waiting," Mouth whispered before letting out an annoyed breath, glancing up at the ceiling. _Well, at least I found out her name. Millicent. Unique, yet beautiful._

"Any luck, Marv?" Skillz quizzed, sidling up to his position.

"Not really," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "People keep interupting me before I can even introduce myself." Mouth shrugged, adding. "I did find out her name though."

Skillz glanced at him with slightly widened eyes. "Really now?"

"Millicent," he informed.

"That's me," a girl chimed in, causing both men to turn in mild surprise. She smiled at Mouth, clearly amused by his expression. "Told you I'd be right back."

"Well, I'll take that as my cue to leave," Skillz chuckled, swiftly making his escape. "Nice to meet you, Millicent."

"Nice to meet you, too," she replied, then turned to Mouth. "Who was that?"

"That was Skillz," he answered.

"His parents named him Skillz?" Millicent asked, her tone making the dirty haired blonde beside the girl frown. He wasn't sure if she was being serious until a little grin made its way onto her lips a moment later. "I'm yanking your chain, Marvin."

"Most people call me 'Mouth'," he blurted, internally wincing as soon as the words left his...well, mouth.

She smirked at him. "This isn't going to lead us to a story full of debauchery and such, is it?"

"No, it's not," he assured.

"Hmm, too bad," the girl sighed in exaggerated disappointment, though she perked up almost immediately. "Anyway, I'm Millicent Huxtable. Millie, for short. I'm Brooke's personal assistant."

"Marvin McFadden," he said, relieved to finally being able to introduce himself. "I'm a friend of Brooke's from back in high school."

"It's nice to meet you, Marvin," she smiled warmly at him, holding her hand out.

He took her hand in his own and shook it. "Likewise, Millicent."

"I'm going to grab myself a bottled water," Millie said, discreetly pointing in the general direction of the entrance.

"I'll come with you," he offered.

She nodded, like the girl was expecting this to be his response. "Okay."

Mouth allowed her to take the lead, the pair wandering their way through the crowded room before she came to a dead stop. He came close to bumping her from behind, catching himself before that could happen at the last possible second.

"What is it?" Mouth asked, following her gaze to find the last person he was expecting to show up standing in the doorway. "Oh, crap."

(Rachel)

_Okay, never actually had a room fall into a hush at my entrance before,_ Rachel thought, glancing around the immediate area in search of a familiar face. Her eyes immediately fell on Mouth, who was standing beside some nerdy looking girl whom Rachel didn't recognize. Her eyes widened at how close they were to each other, which caused a knot in her stomach to form. Her hand went to her abdomen of its own volition, as though in rememberance. She dropped her hand immediately, cursing herself for thinking of that at a time like this. _We're here for Peyton, dumb-ass! Get it together!_

"Would you get your plastic butt inside already, Gattina," Peyton grumbled, pushing her inside.

"Shit! Watch what you're doing, Sawyer," the red-head warned, barely catching her balance to prevent an embarrassing tumble onto the hardwood floor.

"Peyton," Lucas cried, walking past Rachel to greet the blonde with a hug.

"Uh, hey, Luke," Peyton greeted, awkwardly returning the hug while throwing Rachel a confused expression.

"Oh, I'm fine, by the way," the red-head said, rolling her eyes. She glanced back around the room as it slowly returned to its previous state, wondering where Mouth and the keener took off to before her gaze fell on Lindsey, who seemed to be burning a hole into her boyfriend's back. _If she had laser vision, Lucas and Peyton would be ashes right now!_

"Come here," Skillz ordered unexpectedly, pulling her off to the side.

"Shit, Skillz!" Rachel cried, almost taking another tumble. "These shoes aren't made for comfortable walking, damn it!"

"I need to know if ya gonna behave yerself tonight," Skillz demanded, furrowing his brow at her. "Cuz if you ain't, you'd best leave right now, Red."

"I've already promised Sawyer that I would," she assured him, raising her hands up. "So ease up there, Sweet Daddy Skillz."

"Ah-ight then," he nodded, satisfied. "Looking foxy, by the way."

"Why, thank you, Antwon," Rachel grinned, appreciating the compliment since she did put alot of work into her appearence. She had worn her favorite black designer dress and matching pumps for the occasion, along with several gold and silver bangles on her wrists. Finishing off her outfit were the outrageously expensive diamond earrings her grandmother had given her for her sweet sixteen. "Peyton said it was a bit much for a boutique's grand opening though."

"Considering how she's dressed up, P Sawyer shouldn't be saying anythin'," he commented, then added with a snort. "And if I didn't know better, I'd assume you two were gettin' it on behind closed doors."

"Like that would ever happen," she laughed dismissively, once again amused by that misconception.

"Now don't go ruining one of my favorite fantasies, Red," Skillz joked.

"Going through a bit of a dry spell there, Skillz?" Rachel teased, happy that their friendship was back to normal.

"Don't I know it," he sighed, looking down at the drink he'd been carrying the entire time. Skillz glanced up before they both laughed.

"So, who was the librarian wannabe hanging around Mouth earlier?" Rachel asked, not aware of how venomous her tone had become until actually finishing the question.

"The librarian wannabe's name is Millicent," a voice informed from behind.

"Hasn't anybody ever told you that it's impolite to eavesdrop?" Rachel snarked, turning to glare at the girl.

"You're not welcome here," she stated matter-of-factly, unflinchingly returning the glare in kind. "I think you should leave."

"I don't feel like it," Rachel replied, narrowing her eyes.

"Don't make me call security," Millicent warned.

"She's with me," Peyton declared from their left, bringing an end to their battle of wills. "Peyton Sawyer."

"Millicent Huxtable," the nerdy brunette greeted. "We spoke on the phone."

"Nice to finally have a face to go along with the voice," she remarked.

"Yes, it is, Miss Sawyer," the other girl agreed, smiling politely at her.

"I'll make sure she behaves herself," the blonde said after an awkward silence passed by, sidling up next to Rachel to link their arms together. "Promise."

"I'll have to pass this by Brooke," the girl stated, then walked off. "I'll be back."

"Take your time, Ah-nold," Rachel quipped.

"Not even two minutes here, and you've already managed to piss somebody off," Peyton sighed, playfully slapping the red-head on the wrist. "Bad girl."

"I'm thinking I need more of a punishment than that, Sawyer," she smirked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Okay, this conversation just took a very disturbing turn," the blonde laughed, letting go of the red-head's arm like it was on fire.

"I was rather enjoyin' it," Skillz spoke up, leering at the two women.

"And on that note, I'm grabbing myself a mineral water," Peyton chuckled, turning to leave.

"Grab me one as well, Legs," Rachel said, receiving a dismissive wave in response.

An amiable silence went by between Skillz and Rachel before it was broken by the former basketball player-turned-coach.

"So, what do ya think of yer competition, Red?"

"What competition?" Rachel scoffed.

"Millicent," Skillz clarified.

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Again, I ask, what competition?"

"Just saying, our boy's got that look in his eye," he said, glancing at her expectantly.

"What look?" Rachel asked, hoping Skillz didn't mean what she thought he meant by that. "Skillz..."

"You know," he gestured with his hand. "The Look."

"Shit," she sighed, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

**End scene.**

**I've been debating on whether or not to put Carrie in the story for a while now, since I didn't really care too much for the angle. Then I realized that I could just add my own twist on it, you know?**

**I also dropped a big hint concerning Routh's past here. Did you catch it?**

**Anyhow, feel free to review after reading. Thanks!**

**Track 8 ~ 'Hasn't Hit Me Yet' by Blue Rodeo (from 'Five Days In July')**


	9. Ignorance

**9 - Ignorance**

(Brooke)

_I can't believe Peyton brought that bitch with her,_ a miserable Brooke thought, downing what must have been her fifth cocktail since hearing of her ex-girlfriend's arrival at the party. She didn't really know what to think. On one hand, Peyton seemed to be trying to live up to their civility agreement. On the other, she appeared to be rubbing in the fact that she was moving on. And with Rachel Gattina of all people! _How the hell did that come about?_

"Hey, there you are," Lucas greeted, finding her and sitting down beside the brunette on the bench in the back hallway. "What's with the long face?"

"That's a stupid question, Lucas," she stated, staring into her empty glass. "And I know for a fact that you're not stupid."

"Thanks," he replied uncertainly. "I think."

"Emotionally inept? Maybe," Brooke added, attempting to lighten the mood. "But stupid? No."

"It must be hard for you to see them together," Lucas said, seeing straight through the pretense to the heart of matter. "Rachel and Peyton, I mean."

Brooke glanced over to meet his greyish-blue gaze, noticing genuine sympathy reflecting back. She reached over and gripped his hand. "You're a good friend, Lucas Scott," she rasped, smiling softly. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Pretty Girl," he smiled back.

"Brooke?" Victoria called from around the corner, stepping into view a moment later. "There you are! What are you doing back here?"

_Hiding from my ex-girlfriend and her current girlfriend,_ the fashionista thought before answering. "I was just catching up with Lucas, mom."

"Well, you can save me the details of your latest illicit rendenvous, Brooke," her mother replied in a curt tone, the blatant assumption making the younger Davis woman's blood boil. "But what you can't do is hide when you're supposed to be hosting this party."

"Fine, mother," Brooke sighed, annoyed. "I'll be right out."

Victoria nodded, unaffected by her daughter's tone, then spun on her heel to leave the two friends sitting by themselves.

"You weren't kidding about all those things you said about your mom, were you?" Lucas asked in surprise, reminding the designer that this was the first time that the blonde boy had truly encountered the Davis family's matriarch.

"Come on, Broody. I needed another drink anyway," Brooke said, once more trying to lighten the mood.

"I could use another orange juice," he replied, allowing her to drag him up and back to join the party once again.

The two walked out side by side, only to have Brooke stop at the sight of Peyton giggling at something that Rachel had just told her. She almost jumped out of her skin at Lucas touching her forearm.

"You can do this, Brooke," he encouraged.

Brooke forced a smile, swallowed hard, then nodded before continuing towards the front to address everybody present.

"Can I have your attention, please," Brooke said in a voice just loud enough for the party-goers to hear. "I just want to say thank you all for coming tonight, and hopefully this will mark the beginning of what'll be a successful endeavor for 'Clothes Over Bros' here in our beloved town of Tree Hill."

"Here, here," Lucas shouted, lifting a champagne flute that Millicent handed him. "To Brooke!"

The room resonated loudly in agreement, everybody lifting their glasses. "To Brooke!"

Brooke grinned, her spirits lifted by their praise, only to have them shoved down by a smirking Rachel Gattina.

"I need a drink," Brooke muttered after her guests returned to their previous conversations. _Which will most likely be followed by several, several more._

(Peyton)

"I'm glad we came here tonight, Rach," Peyton smiled, sipping her mineral water. "It's been a little difficult, but also very cathartic in a way, you know?"

"She's staring at you again," the red-head informed with a smirk.

"Who's staring at me?" Peyton frowned at her friend, confused by the remark. "And what do you mean by 'again'?"

"God, you really do live up to the ditzy blonde stereotype sometimes," she sighed, shaking her head. She discreetly pointed behind Peyton, to where Brooke was standing with a group of people. The brunette's head snapped back to one of the people in front of her, doing a poor job of hiding the fact that she'd been staring at the blonde.

"Okay, that wasn't at all strange," Peyton commented, turning back to face the red-head.

"I know this is going to sound extremely weird, especially coming from me, but maybe you should go talk to her," her best friend suggested.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," she protested softly, scratching lightly on the side of her glass.

"You have to stop running from her, Peyton," Rachel said, suddenly serious. "Clear the air between you two."

"Yeah, and that worked out so well for you, didn't it?" Peyton grumbled, rolling her eyes. She was still annoyed with the red-head on what happened between her and Brooke at Tric, despite the fact that Rachel and Peyton had more or less made up a few days ago.

"You know that I'm right," she stated, that smug smirk returning to her lips.

Peyton took a deep breath, then narrowed her eyes at Rachel. "I really do hate you sometimes."

"Nevermind, it looks like the decision is out of your hands anyway, because here she comes," the former model said while gesturing past her to an approaching Brooke, who seemed a little wobbly on her feet. "Good luck."

"Rachel, wait," the blonde began, but found herself cut off by her obviously drunk ex-girlfriend. _Crap!_

"Hey, P Sawyer," the fashionista greeted with that flirty smile. "So glad you could make it tonight."

"Well, it would've been rude to turn down the invite," she replied, her tone coming out harsher than Peyton had intended.

"If you were worried about being rude, you wouldn't have brought that whore with you," Brooke muttered before wincing at her own words, clearly telling the blonde that those words had come of their own volition. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"No, I heard what happened at Tric between the two of you, and you have every right to be sore with Rachel," she returned in understanding, then chose to change the subject. "The place looks great, Brooke. I'm sure it'll be a huge hit, just like all the others are."

"I am really glad I could share this with you, P," Brooke stated, stepping closer to lightly lay her hand on the blonde's arm. Peyton felt butterflies stir in her stomach despite herself. "I really missed talking to you like this. All friendly and the like."

"I've missed it, too," she admitted, smiling softly.

"I'm going out for some fresh air, but I'll come talk to you when I come back inside," the fashionista said, then she stepped forward to whisper so that only Peyton could hear. "She's not good enough for you."

"What?" Peyton whispered, feeling like she'd just been slapped. She watched Brooke walk away, completely gobsmacked for a moment as her ex-girlfriend excused herself to head outside.

"So, how'd it go?" Rachel asked, returning to join her.

"Here, hold this," the suddenly fuming record producer growled, handing her empty glass to the red-head before stalking outside.

"Oh, boy," Rachel said just as the glass door clicked shut.

The irrate blonde stepped onto the sidewalk and looked both ways, spotting Brooke about thirty feet or so to the left. Peyton took an angry breath, then all but stomped over towards the fashion icon, her heels clicking loudly against the concrete.

Brooke turned at the sound, displaying surprise at being followed outside. "Peyton?"

"She's not good enough for me? Where do you get off saying something like that?" Peyton demanded, walking up to stand directly in front of the girl who'd broken her heart so long ago. "It is completely unfair for you to say that to me!"

"It's unfair to you?" Brooke snapped back, incredulous. "You want to talk about unfair, Peyton? How about the time you ambushed me with that ultimatum back in New York? Or how about how I had to hear from Rachel about what you went through in LA? Or how I have to watch you move on with your life when I'm stuck in the same God-damned place I was two and a half years ago?"

"Hey, it's not my fault that you're regretting the choices you made then, so don't you dare try to pin that on me! You want to find somebody to blame, go take a look in the mirror!" Peyton cried, then gestured her arms wildly. "And what the hell do you mean stuck in the same place? If you haven't noticed, you're the head of that fashion empire you always wanted!"

"But none of it means a fucking thing if I don't have you there to share it with me!" Brooke wailed, her hazel eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Once again, Peyton found herself at a loss for words. "Brooke, I..."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a party that I need to get back to hosting," the former cheerleader said, desperately trying to regain her composure.

"Wait," she pled, gripping her by the elbow.

"I've humiliated myself enough for one night, Peyton," Brooke begged, her gaze directed to the sidewalk. "Please let me walk away with at least a tiny shred of my dignity intact."

Unable to think of something substantial to say, Peyton simply nodded and released her hold.

"Thank you, P Sawyer," the fashionista rasped before making her escape towards the boutique.

"You're welcome, B Davis," Peyton whispered back, watching Brooke walk away with the realization that she wasn't the only one who'd been hurting for the last two and a half years. _Rachel's right about me. Sometimes, I really live up to those ditzy blonde stereotypes, don't I?_

(Haley)

"Where's your partner in crime?" Haley asked, sidling up next to an anxious looking Rachel.

"Outside somewhere, talking to Brooke," she replied curtly, staring at the front door.

The young mother smiled. "And you're still in here? Impressive show of restraint on your part."

"Bite me, Short Stuff," the red-head retorted, turning to smile down at her. "So how's the new nanny working out thus far?"

"Thus far?" Haley quirked an eyebrow, then sighed. "She seems alright and all her references check out, but I'm feeling a little bit iffy about Carrie for some reason."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that she's smoking hot, would it?" Rachel suggested, clearly amused.

"Mouth said the same thing," she groaned, then stopped to wonder at the other girl's pained expression. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I'm just feeling a little light-headed," Rachel said, doing a poor attempt at lying. Haley noticed that her gaze had been drawn across the room, to where Mouth and Brooke's assistant were speaking amongst themselves.

Haley returned her glance to the red-head with sympathy. "You still love him, don't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she denied, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"You know the one thing I've learned from being a mother and a teacher, Rachel?" Haley asked, lightly placing her hand on the red-head's arm. The taller copper haired girl raised her gaze to meet the shorter brunette in the eye. "It's how to tell when somebody is lying."

"I can't give him what he wants," said Rachel, her usually impregnable emotional walls down for the moment. "Not anymore."

"What happened between you and Mouth?" Haley pressed, not knowing if she'd ever get another opportunity like this. Rachel Gattina wasn't one to share very often, if ever.

"You're boy is looking tired, Short Stuff. Go take care of him," the red-head stated, seeming to change the subject. At least that's what the young mother thought until she noticed the wistful gaze Rachel was giving Jamie as the four year old and his nanny made their way towards them. "I'm going to check on Peyton. Good night."

"Good night," she whispered, wondering if her suspicion was correct.

"Mama?" Jamie whined in a tired voice, interupting her train of thought. "Can we go home soon? I'm tired."

"Yeah, let's just go and find your daddy, then say good night to Aunt Brooke," Haley said, lowering herself down to his level. "And after that, we'll head home, okay?"

"Okay, Mama," Jamie mumbled, throwing his arms around her neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Jimmy Jam," Haley said while lifting her sleepy son up from the floor, then sent a pitying glance at Rachel's back before turning to Carrie. "Let's get going."

**End scene.**

**Anvils are heavy, so I hope you apprecitate the ones I dropped this chapter.**

**Next time on 'Tomorrow Starts Today', we turn back the clock. That's right. Flashbacks.**

**You know the drill. Review after reading, and see you next update.**

**Track 9 ~ 'Ignorance' by Paramore (from 'Brand New Eyes')**


	10. Goodbye to You

_The Flashback - Part 1 of 2_

**10 - Goodbye to You**

(Peyton)

_And that's the last one,_ Peyton thought as she zipped the remaining bag closed, hoping that all this work would be for naught. She picked it up and placed the bag with the two other pieces of luggage in the large closet, then returned to the bedroom and sat down on the king sized mattress to wait for Brooke to get home.

The curly haired blonde didn't have to wait for very long since her girlfriend of a little more than three years rushed into the room, looking a little frazzled by what was no doubt another busy day.

"I think my mom is trying to kill me, Peyt," a distracted Brooke said, hurrying past her towards the closet. "Did you know that she's scheduled another meeting with some investors in about fifty minutes? And then after that, she wants me to speak with Macy's! I'm crazy busy right now!"

"I've noticed," Peyton replied flatly.

"What's the matter, P?" Brooke asked, immediately noticing her tone. "And what's with all the luggage in the closet?"

"I've been offered a job at a major label," Peyton informed.

"That's fantastic, Peyton!" Brooke exclaimed, her girlfriend's eyes light up.

"It's in Los Angeles," the blonde finished.

She watched the excitement that was momentarily on Brooke's face get swept away, replaced by hurt and confusion. "In LA?"

"Yeah," she nodded, then licked her lips. "I'm thinking about taking it."

"What?" Brooke rasped, her eyes the size of saucers. "Without even talking it over with me?"

"That's what I'm doing now," she said, looking down with guilt.

"I can't believe you're dropping this on me now," the other girl rasped, her temper beginning to rear its head. "Now, when I have so much going on!"

"What choice did you leave me, Brooke?" Peyton snapped. "You're almost never around, and during the rare times you are home, Victoria is with you, and then it's nothing but work, work, work! "

"She's my mom AND my business partner, P," the brunette cried.

"And I'm your fiance," the blonde shot back. "Doesn't that count for something?"

"Of course it does, but-"

"But nothing," she interupted. "I've been patient these last few months. I've sat back, waited for you to be ready to come out to your mom, to tell her that we're getting married."

"Now's not a good time, ba-"

"And when is it ever going to be a good time, huh?" Peyton cried. "I've put my career, my life on hold for you! I can't do it any longer, Brooke! Why can't you see that this is destroying us?"

"Don't do this, Peyt," she rasped, looking betrayed. "Don't force me to choose between you and my mother."

"I don't want to, but...but," Peyton stuttered, her voice quivering from the intense emotions coursing through her entire being. "But I'm tired of having to hide our relationship. I want to be able to spend time with you again. I want to be able to hold your hand in public like we used to back in Tree Hill. I want to be able to kiss you whenever I feel like it, and not have to worry about hurting your public image because some paparazzi might be skulking around, ready to take our picture. I'm tired of your mother constantly shadowing us, giving us little to no privacy. I'm...just tired, Brooke. I can't do this anymore!"

"You're being ridiculous," Brooke protested. "My mother doesn't shad-"

"What is the hold up in here?" Victoria asked, bursting into the room to cut her daughter off mid-sentance. "Hurry up, Brooke!"

Peyton sent Brooke a defiant look, daring the fashionista to try and deny the blonde's statement now.

"Mother, we're trying to have an important conversation here," Brooke chided, refusing to meet her fiance's gaze any longer. "Give us a few minutes, please!"

"We don't have a few minutes," her mother told her in that ever present condescending tone. "The investors are expecting us within the hour, so whatever it is will have to wait for later."

"Fine, mother, I'll be right out," the younger of the Davis women sighed, glanced back at her lover of the past several years as Victoria left them once again. "I have to go, but we'll finish talking about this later, okay?"

"No," Peyton said, shaking her head. "We won't."

"What?"

"We talk about this now, or not at all," the blonde said, steeling her resolve.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Brooke asked, shocked.

"It means that if you go out that door," Peyton elaborated. "Don't expect me to be here when you get back."

"You can't mean that," she whispered.

"Yes, I can," the blonde affirmed, finding her resolve again. "And I do."

"So, it comes down to this, huh?" Brooke huffed.

Peyton nodded, unable to speak. _Please stay!_

"Fine, have it your way," the brunette said harshly, then walked out while slamming the apartment door after herself so hard that Peyton flinched in response.

Peyton, wounded and alone, glanced around at the empty bedroom, taking in the furnished surroundings for what would be the last time. She glanced at the diamond ring sparkling on her finger, recalling when Brooke had proposed and smiled sadly at the memory. _I'll never be able to go near another ferris wheel ever again,_ the blonde realized, rubbing the white gold band around her ring finger. A solemn moment passed by before Peyton slipped the engagement ring off, placing it on the nightstand where her now ex-fiance would easily find it. She choked back a sob before pressing two fingers to her lips, then placed the kiss onto the pillow on Brooke's side of the bed. Peyton rose from the bed and gathered her luggage from the closet, then headed towards the exit. She stopped in the doorway for one last time, staring down at the carpet.

"So much for always and forever," Peyton whispered, then left the apartment with her luggage in tow. _Now it's just me against the world._

(Mouth)

There were few times that Marvin McFadden had felt so helpless than now. The one other time that came to mind was when his beloved grandfather, Mel, had finally succumbed to his disease just after Mouth's graduation, but at least then he had Rachel there to support him through it. And as horrible as that day had been, it paled in comparison to today.

"Mister McFadden?"

Mouth looked up from where he was leaning forward in the uncomfortable hospital chair, his elbows resting against his knees. "Yeah?"

"I'm Doctor Jones," the grey haired man greeted solemnly, glasses perched precariously at the end of his hawkish nose. "You're here for one Miss Rachel Virginia Gattina, correct?"

"Yes, I am," he nodded, practically jumping out of his seat. "Can I see her?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible at the moment. She's in the recovery room right now, resting from surgery," the doctor informed him. "What I do need is for you to answer a few questions, if that's okay with you."

"Anything, if it'll help Rachel," he said, sitting back down. "How is she? Is she going to be okay? What happened?"

"I need to ask you a few questions before I can divulge any more information, Mister McFadden," the doctor said, his evasion of the question telling Marvin that it was something serious. He sat in the chair next to Mouth. "First off, what is your relationship with the patient?"

"We're dating," he answered, quickly adding at the skeptical expression on the man's face. "For almost two years now."

The doctor nodded, then continued with the next question. And boy, what a question it turned out to be. "And were you aware that Miss Gattina was pregnant?"

"What?" Mouth breathed, a plethora of emotions bombarding him all at once. Shock, fear, and, of course, happiness were the most recognizable. "Rachel's pregnant?"

Dr. Jones placed a hand on his shoulder, in a gesture that was probably supposed to resemble sympathy. "I'm sorry, son. I'm afraid she lost the baby."

Marvin slumped in his chair, feeling like his entire world was crashing down around him. "She...lost it?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," the doctor nodded, repeating the apology like it would really make a difference.

"How?" Mouth asked, his throat tight.

"Placental abruption, also called abruptio placentae," the doctor answered, who seemed more at ease now that he was explaining a medical term instead of trying to console a patient's loved one.. "It's when the placental lining has separated from the uterus of the mother, causing..."

Mouth placed his head in his hands, only half listening to the older man drone on with his diagnosis. He continued to stare at the floor until a somewhat familiar medical term caught his attention, bringing his gaze back up to meet the doctor's. "Did you say hysterectomy?"

"Yes, due to an unusual amount of bleeding, we were forced to perform an emergency hysterectomy, which is-"

"I know what a hysterectomy is," he interupted, not wanting to hear what that particular detail meant.

"We also believe that the main reason for Miss Gattina's miscarriage is due to her apparently prolonged use of recreational drugs, cocaine in particular, which we found traces of in her bloodwork apon her admission," Dr. Jones repeated. "And from your reaction, I take it you were unaware that she was using."

"She promised that she'd stop doing that crap," he whispered, angry at both himself and Rachel. Himself for believing her, and Rachel for lying about it. He felt a tear escape, but didn't bother wiping it away.

"Look, son, it-" the doctor began.

"I was going to propose to her," Mouth blurted, cutting off the older man. He didn't know why he was telling this stranger, this physician with the most atrocious of bedside manners, what he'd been planning to do, but here he was, in the waiting room of some LA hospital, beginning to pour his heart out. "I bought her an engagement ring. It isn't much to look at, but I would've made up for it later with the wedding band. I had a house lined up for us to look at next week, where I was going to pop the question. It was going to be a surprise. It was going to be perfect."

Once again, Marvin placed his head in his hands and lamented at the unfairness of it all.

(Brooke)

When Brooke had returned to the apartment forty minutes following their argument, she expected that Peyton would still be there. She didn't think that the blonde was serious with her ultimatum, brushing it off as just a tactic by her fiance to grab Brooke's attention. It worked since the fashionista had re-scheduled all of her meetings until the next day, feigning illness as a reason. Her mother had been furious, but Brooke reminded Victoria on who worked for who.

"Peyton?" Brooke called out, making her way towards their bedroom. "Babe? I'm sorry for storming out like that, but I needed some time to think and to re-schedule everything. Let's talk this out, okay?"

As soon as she entered the bedroom, Brooke knew something was off.

"Baby, I know, I screwed up, but this isn't funny," she cried, a cold fear gripping her heart at the eerie silence. "Peyton?"

That was when the fashion world's newest sensation caught sight of it, just sitting there on the ornately designed nightstand, taunting her.

"No," Brooke whimpered, rushing over to pick the engagement ring up. She clutched it to her chest, then collapsed onto the floor. "No, no, no," she whispered over and over again, curling up into a ball on the carpet. "Please, no..."

That was pretty much how her mother had found Brooke the next day.

"It's better this way, Brooke," Victoria assured her, caressing Brooke's hair in a rare moment of trying to comfort her daughter. "Now you can concentrate on your work without that needy little parasite distracting you all the time."

Despite Victoria's harsh words about the love of her life, the up-and-coming fashion star couldn't bring herself to push away the older Davis woman and defend Peyton's actions. Not when...

Not when her mother was all that Brooke had left.

So instead, Brooke did exactly as Victoria had suggested. She lost herself in her work, put all her spare energy into making 'Clothes Over Bros' into an even bigger success. Forever trying to keep herself distracted from the heartache that would surely crush the talented seamstress entirely if she allowed it to take a foothold for long.

It was about three months until Victoria 'suggested' that she start dating, if only for appearence purposes. After weeks of being badgered, Brooke reluntantly relented to her mother's demand. Victoria soon set her daughter up with several young men for high profile events, though the dates never went beyond this agreed apon arrangement. She couldn't bring herself to do anymore than lip service. It felt like she was cheating on Peyton as it is, so sleeping with another person was out of the question.

"So this is what I'm reduced to, huh?" Brooke whispered after one such date had ended, staring out the window of her limo at the bright lights of Manhatten and feeling more alone than any other time in her life. _How pathetic._

**End scene.**

**Hopefully I got the flow, as well as the medical stuff, down right. I was a little tentative on taking this approach, but what's done is done.**

**Review after reading and see you next time.**

**Track 10 ~ 'Goodbye to You' by Michelle Branch (from 'the Spirit Room')**


	11. Let Go

_The Flashback - Part 2 of 2_

**11 - Let Go**

(Rachel)

Rachel traced her finger along the scar on her lower abdomen, a constant reminder of what her stupidity had wrought. She had lost so much over the last couple of months. Her self-respect, her unborn baby, and most importantly, Mouth.

And for what? A few fleeting moments of simulated euphoria?

"No one but myself to blame," she stated to the mirror, zipping her skinny designer jeans back up. She turned away and walked over to the bed, where the red-head retrieved a silvery top and slipped it on. Her cellphone beeped, telling her that she'd just received a new text message.

_[I M at Planetary. Wher R U, bitch?]_

The red-head rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh at what must have been the fifth message from her younger, more popular collegue. Rachel really didn't want to put up with her fellow model tonight, especially considering the current mood she found herself in. The other model was an insufferable, vapid wisp of a girl (who had decided that the red-head was now her best friend and mentor) with a personality that just grated on Rachel's nerves at the best of times.

Yet Rachel couldn't bring herself to refuse the girl's companionship. She was the closest thing to a friend that the red-head had since moving back to Los Angeles a week earlier, following her disasterous term under contract with 'Clothes Over Bros'.

Sure, her stint in New York had started out well enough for her, giving Rachel hope that her life was finally turning around. She was extremely excited to be working with Brooke, whose company she cherished.

The frantic pace of the fashion world once again got the better of Rachel though, and her life quickly spiralled even further out of control. The drug habit that had already cost so much from her time in LA claimed even more, consuming everything it touched like a sparked match to gasoline.

Her erratic behavior eventually cost Rachel the position she loved at Clothes Over Bros, and ultimately, her friendship with Brooke, who just sat there stone faced when Victoria gleefully informed the red-head that her contract had been terminated.

That was when Rachel had hit rock bottom, having to resort to working at some disgusting strip club in order to help sustain her drug addiction.

_New York wasn't a complete wash out though,_ Rachel smiled softly, turning her attention to the picture by her bedside. She lovingly traced her fingers along the furnished wooden frame. _At least I got to find out that Mouth doesn't hate me anymore. That he still cares._

Rachel recalled the confusion she had felt at seeing him after several months apart, when they lived in Los Angeles together. It was too painful for her to even look at Mouth most of time following the miscarriage, constantly reminded of how she had robbed him of becoming a father. So she ended it. The red-head had tearfully told him that she had never wanted to see him again, she assuming this was it for them.

When he showed up at the dingy club that night in New York, Rachel mistook him for some sort of hallucination. Shocked at seeing him, the red-head approached him with her stomach in knots. "Am I dreaming?"

"No, I'm real," Mouth assured, that awkward smile playing on his lips.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel asked.

"I'm here to take you home," he answered, holding his hand out. "To Tree Hill."

Rachel smiled ruefully at how she had refused at first, but eventually relented because she was tired of how messed up things had become. She returned to Tree Hill and managed to get clean again.

And it was all thanks to Mouth, the one person who had every right to hate her. It was hard to leave him behind in Tree Hill so she could jump start her failing modelling career, but Rachel did it with the promise to not fall prey to the pitfalls that had tripped her earlier attempts.

Her beeping cellphone brought her back from the reverie, but Rachel didn't bother to look at the text. She already knew who it was from. She grabbed her bag, then exitted her tiny one bedroom apartment, arriving at Club Planetary some twenty or so minutes later.

"Hey, it's about time you showed up, whore," her so-called friend greeted when she had entered, drunkenly hugging the red-head. "I was getting lonely!"

"I find that hard to believe, Alex," she scoffed, taking the spot next to the olive skinned girl.

"Here, I got you a mojito," Alex offered, shoving a drink into her hand. "Drink up!"

"Alex, you know that I'm trying to slow do-" she began, only to be interupted by a familiar voice roaring loudly from several seats down from their current position at the bar.

"I said I can I buy my own drinks! So back off!"

"Peyton?" Rachel muttered, surprised to find her old rival completely sloshed in a LA night club. _Oh, my God! She's a fucking train wreck,_ the red-head thought, taking in the blonde's haggard appearance. Rachel almost didn't recognize her. She was terribly gaunt and her clothes didn't quite fit her right, which was saying alot since Rachel had considered Peyton on the dangerously skinny side to begin with. She was almost skeletal, truth be told. Her skin was even paler than usual as well, probably clammy to the touch by the look of it. Yet of all these startling changes, the most obvious one of all was atop her head.

_Why would you cut your hair so short, Sawyer?_ Rachel wondered, amazed at how different she looked with the almost boyish haircut. _That curly mess was the one thing you really had going for you!_

"You know that Anna Stern wannabe?" Alex asked, following her gaze.

"She's a friend of mine from back east," she lied, then rose from the stool. "I'm going to go say hi. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here," Rachel repeated, then turned away without another word.

"Oh, you're no fun," Alex muttered from behind her, no doubt pouting into her drink.

"I said, no," the blonde was raging at some very butch looking latina who was trying desperately to pick up Peyton. "What part of 'no', do you not understand?"

"Is there a problem here?" Rachel interjected, stepping in between Peyton and her would be suitor.

"Rachel?" Peyton asked with wide eyes, completely taken aback.

"Hey, chica," she greeted with a grin. She winked at the confused blonde before turning to the other girl. "Why are you harrassing my girlfriend?"

"Your what?" Peyton and her suitor at the same time.

"Honey, you're piss drunk, so let me do the talking, okay?" Rachel suggested, patting her on the shoulder. _She's on the verge of passing out. Looks like I got here just in time!_

"Aw, jeez," the blonde groaned tiredly, leaning forward on the bar while pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Good girl," the model said, patting her shoulder again.

"Bitch," a groggy Peyton muttered, which made her 'girlfriend' chuckle in amusement. _You always were an easy mark, Sawyer._

"You know, I don't believe that you're her girlfriend," the latina girl sneered, challenging the red-head with a fiery glare. "So why don't you just piss off?"

"You need proof?" Rachel raised an eyebrow, then spun on her heel to face the blonde again after the other girl nodded. "Peyton."

Peyton glanced up, her sea-green eyes glazed over. "Huh?"

"Sorry," Rachel mouthed before closing the gap between them, her lips crashing onto the unsuspecting blonde's so suddenly that Peyton almost fell off her stool in surprise, letting out a strangle cry in the process.

"Oh, whatever," she heard the latina huff before stalking away.

"Damn, that was hot," the bartender gaped, his jaw to the floor.

_Some guys are just horny little boys at heart, aren't they?_ Rachel mused, rolling her eyes at the bartender's statement.

"If I had the energy right now, I'd kick your ass," Peyton growled, having recovered enough to chide the other girl's actions. "Don't do that again."

"I'll take that as a thank you," she chuckled, then glanced around in search of her other 'friend', who was now gone from where the red-head had left her. _Hmm, that little skank must have found herself some action. Oh, well. I didn't really want to hang out with her tonight anyway._

"Oh, I don't feel so good," the blonde groaned, wobbling slightly from atop her stool.

"Okay, let's get you home, you lush," Rachel suggested, gently steadying the other girl before she could fall to the floor. Surprisingly, Peyton didn't resist and allowed her high school nemesis to guide her out of Planetary.

_Brooke really did a number on you, didn't she?_ Rachel thought, laying the blonde in her own bed since Peyton was too out of it to give her any proper information on where she lived.

"Good night, Sawyer," she said, still in mild shock at the blonde's new shorter hairstyle. She stood up and strode to towards the couch on the other side of the room, suddenly feeling very tired. She glanced at the clock, amused to find that it was barely ten o'clock. _Damn, I must be getting old if I'm going to bed at this hour!_

"Rachel?" Peyton rasped, her voice scratchy.

The red-head stopped, glancing over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because I've been where you are, and no one should have to go through that alone," she answered honestly.

"Not even your worst enemy?"

"Not even her," Rachel replied. "Now go to sleep, Peyton."

"Thank you," Peyton whispered so lowly that Rachel had almost missed it.

(Peyton)

"Get up, you idiot," an all too familiar voice commanded through the haze, which Peyton chose to ignore. "I said, get up!"

"Piss off, Gattina," the blonde muttered before burying her head into her pillow.

"Okay, you asked for it," Rachel stated, her footfalls telling the blonde that she had left the room.

Peyton probably should've been worried, but the throbbing in her head was too distracting for her to do so. Just as she was once again comfortable enough to fall back to sleep, the blonde suddenly found herself jumping from the sheets and sputtering cold water. She looked over to the end of the bed, where a fuming Rachel, her roommate for the last few months, was standing with a blue plastic pail in her hand.

"What the fuck, Rach?" Peyton cried, standing up quickly only to discover that she was nude. She quickly grabbed the nearest thing (which was a slightly soaked pillow) to hide behind, wondering at how she ended up in her current state of undress since the blonde didn't often sleep in the buff. "Why am I naked?"

"Well, let's see. You got wasted last night, picked up some skank with a more than slight resemblance to your ex-fiance, who you brought back here and had sex with," the red-head informed. "That's why you're naked, dumb-ass!"

"Whe-"

"She pulled a Shane McCutchen and snuck out while you were sleeping," Rachel interupted, then turned to leave the room. "Now go take a shower, then put some damn clothes on. We have to go and see Naley and the squirt at the hospital in one hour, so hurry the hell up!"

_Okay, she's really pissed,_ Peyton thought later while on their way to the hospital, where Nathan was having an operation on his injured back. She was seated in the passenger seat of the Cooper Mini that Rachel had leased back in January, wondering at just how angry the red-headed model was at her.

"Rach-" Peyton began.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Rachel snapped, gripping the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white. "You've been doing so awesome lately, Peyton. I just don't get why you'd do this!"

"I saw her last night," the blonde whispered, ashamed.

"God-damn it, Sawyer," Rachel groaned. "You went to the Clothes Over Bros Gala last night, didn't you? Even after I told you not to? God, I can't leave you alone for one night, can I?"

"I just wanted to see her again, even if it was from afar," Peyton sniffled, regretting her decision. "I wish I hadn't gone though."

"We both know Brooke's not sleeping with any of those guys she dates," the red-head stated with conviction, seeming to know where this was going. "It's just to keep up appearances, because Heaven forbid that a lesbian's the head of a huge fashion company!"

"It didn't look that way last night," the blonde muttered, dropping her gaze.

"You're an idiot," Rachel said in a considerably calmer tone, reaching over to rub her shoulder in sympathy. "But I can understand where you're coming from. Brooke does put on a very convincing act of being straight, doesn't she?"

"I don't want to feel like this anymore, Rach," Peyton whimpered, rubbing her temples. "It sucks."

"Then stop snorting coke and drinking so much," her friend replied flippantly.

Peyton shot a glare her way. "That's not wha-"

"I knew what you meant, Peyton," Rachel interupted with a half smirk, glancing sidelong at the blonde. "And I'm here to help, if and when you need it."

"I feel like you're always saving me," the blonde said, then giggled at the memory of saying something very similar to somebody else. That moment seemed like an entire lifetime ago.

Rachel quirked an eyebrow at her, intrigued. "What's with the random giggle fit, Legs?"

"Nothing important, Rusty," Peyton lied, shaking her head. For some reason, she didn't think that Rachel would appreciate being compared to Lucas Scott. "Just laughing at how ironic it is that the one girl who I would've gladly strangled back in high school has somehow ended up becoming my best friend."

"That is pretty funny, isn't it?" Rachel agreed.

"Sorry for screwing up last night," she apologized.

"You're forgiven, Sawyer," the red-head assured, her earlier anger forgotten. "Just be sure to return the favor someday, okay?"

"You got it, Gattina," she promised, happy to have that all sorted out.

They sat in a comfortable silence before Rachel broke it with an uncharacteristically timid question. "Do you think that Mini-Nathan will like me?"

(Lucas)

"To a job well done," Lindsey declared, lifting her drink up in salute.

"To a job well done," Lucas repeated, clinking his bottle of beer against her martini glass. He took a large gulp, then set it down on the bar. "You know, I have to admit that when I wrote this book, I didn't really expect it to do this well."

"You may not have, but I did," his editor smiled, placing her drink down as well. "As soon as I read the rough draft last year, I knew we had a hit on our hands. I'm so glad you took a chance on agreeing to me being your editor, Lucas. Thank you."

"I should be the one thanking you, Lindsey," he said, returning her smile. "After all, if you hadn't read it in the first place, then I probably wouldn't even be here celebrating this book launching."

"In that case, you're welcome," she chuckled, tucking her hair behind an ear while looking down shyly. "But there's something I've been wondering since we started working on this together, though I was always too afraid to ask."

"Hmm?"

Lindsey licked her lips, then continued. "What happened to the book's Peyton and Lucas after the story ended?"

"Turns out she didn't feel the same way about him as he did about her," Lucas answered, feeling a little guilty for leaving out the fact that Peyton had ended up falling in love with another girl. And that girl was none other than her best friend, Brooke Davis, who also happened to be the only other girl that Lucas had ever truly loved.

"That sucks, because I was rooting for them," his editor stated, sliding her hand across the bar to lay in atop with his own. "But her loss is my potential gain."

"Lindsey," he began, surprised by her sudden forwardness. "I..."

"Just give it a little thought, okay?" Lindsey asked, seeming to sense his hesitation. She rose from her seat, taking her hand away in the process. "I'm heading back to the hotel now, because I have to meet my boss for breakfast tomorrow morning. I'll see you at the signing after that though. Good night, Lucas."

"Good night, Linds," he returned, watching her walk away.

"She was kind of cute," a familiar rasp remarked from behind him, startling Lucas slightly. "Are you sure you don't wanna go after her?"

"Brooke?" Lucas turned in surprise, finding the brunette grinning back at him. "I thought your assistant said you couldn't make it out tonight?"

"Well, I did just get back from the LA grand opening of Clothes Over Bros outlet last night, so I guess that's where she got that idea from," she shrugged, taking the seat that Lindsey had just vacated. "Anyhow, what brings you to my neck of woods, Broody?"

"I've got a book signing tomorrow," he replied modestly, scratching at the label of his beer bottle. "It's kind of a big thing. At least, that's what Lindsey keeps telling me. I'm still in a bit of shock from actually getting published though. Everything still has that surreal quality to it."

The brunette smirked leeringly at him. "Who's Lindsey?"

"My editor," he chuckled, amused by her teasing. "In fact, if you'd gotten here just twenty seconds earlier, you would've met her."

The brunette began laughing. "That was your editor making the moves on you?"

"Did you get the advanced copy I sent you?" Lucas asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, but I haven't gotten around to reading it because I've been so busy as of late," she said, sheepishly smiling at him. "Sorry."

"Well, that's alright, I guess," the former basketball player shrugged, slightly relieved at hearing that for some reason.

"So, what would you like to do first, Broody?" Brooke inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, ever since I was a kid, I've always wanted to go to Coney Island," he remarked, then frowned in confusion at the sudden pained expression on Brooke's face. "What's the matter?"

"Please don't mention Coney Island around me, Lucas," his fashionista companion rasped, her fingers fiddling with the gold chain around her neck.

"Why not?" Lucas asked, then noticed something hanging from the delicate looking necklace. "What's that?"

"It belongs to Peyton," Brooke stated with an obvious quiver in voice, her hand sliding down the chain until she was grasping the white gold band between thumb and index finger. "Or rather, it used to belong to her, I should say."

"It's beautiful," he commented, momentarily mesmerized by how the light played off the expensive piece of jewelry.

"Only the best for my P Sawyer," she whispered before loosening her grasp, allowing gravity to do it job by having it drop back down the front of her dress.

Lucas looked up at her tone, pity filling him at how broken she appeared. "Brooke..."

"I'm sorry, Lucas," she interjected, rising from her seat. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come out tonight."

"Wait, Brooke," he repeated, following her out to try and stop her from leaving. "Please, stop."

"I can't do this," the fashionista cried, her tone becoming heated as she pushed her way into the street. "I thought I could, but everytime you speak, all I hear is you droning on and on about how much you and Peyton were meant to be together!"

"What?" Lucas asked, taken aback. "I thought you sai-"

"I lied," she told him through clenched teeth, turning to glare at him. "I read every page, Lucas."

"Brooke-"

"God, it's just so pathetic," she ranted, her rising volume causing a few people passing by to momentarily regard them before going on their way. "Through that entire book, you talk about this connection you shared with her, and how nobody could understand it. When the truth is, Lucas Scott, you don't know a thing about Peyton! Not a God-damned thing!"

"Whoa, why are you attacking me all of a sudden?" Lucas cried, hands held up in an attempt to calm the agitated fashion designer.

"Because we were supposed to be forever, Luke!" Brooke shouted, tears cascading down her cheeks unheeded. "She promised me that we were forever! And then she abandoned me!"

"Come here," he commanded, stepping forward to gather the shattered girl in his arms.

"No, let me go," she cried, struggling briefly before finally relenting and allowing herself to completely lose control. She clung to him like a lifeline and sobbed hard against his chest as people walked around them to wherever they were going, either oblivious or uncaring to this poignant moment.

"You've been holding that in for a while now, haven't you?" Lucas whispered, rubbing her back.

"I have to get home," the fashionista rasped, releasing her hold to take a step back. "Victoria is probably wondering where I am. Good night, Lucas."

"Good night, Pretty Girl," he said lowly, watching her walk away.

When Brooke was out of sight, he decided to head back to the hotel to get some sleep. When Lucas had just reached his hotel room though, he found himself unable to enter. Instead, he walked down the hall and knocked on another person's door. It swung open to reveal his editor standing there, ready for bed.

"Lucas?" Lindsey blinked, surprised.

"I thought about what you said at the bar," he stated, hands in his pockets.

She smiled, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded, then stepped forward and pulled her into a deep kiss.

**End scene.**

**Okay, I admit that wasn't all that explosive when compared to the last chapter, but I'm rather proud of this one for some reason.**

**Anyhow, I don't know if there is an actual Club Planetary in Los Angeles, but I just thought it sounded like a cool name for a dance club. And yes, it's that Alex. Thought I'd toss her there, if only for shits and giggles.**

**To avoid confusion, please note that there is a slight time gap between Rachel and Peyton's POVs.**

**As to the Naley mention, I felt there was a small plothole on how Jamie had met Pachel, so I thought up this little scenario in an attempt to fix that.**

**And finally, on a related note, there will be a new character POV next chapter.**

**Track 11 ~ 'Let Go' by Frou Frou (from 'Details ')**


	12. So Says I

_A/N - I hope you liked the flashbacks, because it's time to return to our regularly scheduled timeline, already in progress. Enjoy!_

**12 - So Says I**

(Lindsey)

"Well, this is a surprise," Lindsey remarked with a yawn, sitting up to find her boyfriend at his desk. "What time did you get up?"

"To be honest, I haven't sleep yet," he replied distracted, the keys clicking loudly under his fingers.

"So you've been writing all night," she stated, throwing the covers aside. Rising from the bed to approach him, Lindsey hugged his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "But how much of it is going to survive the dreaded delete button?"

"Almost all of it, I think," he answered with a yawn of his own, the lack of sleep suddenly catching up to the blonde man who'd captured her heart. "God, what time is it, anyway?"

"Just after six o'clock, I think."

"I suppose I should get a little bit of sleep before heading over to the high school, shouldn't I?" Lucas groaned, rubbing his face. "It's going to be a long day."

"I'll wake you in three hours, okay?" Lindsey giggled, kissing his cheek again before heading towards the washroom to get ready for the day. She slipped her nightgown off and stepped into the shower, letting the water cascade off her body. It wasn't long before her earlier good mood disappeared and her mind began to wander to the last few weeks, on how Lucas had slowly begun to show signs of life where his writing career was concerned. It wasn't lost on her that this turn was due to the fact that they'd moved to his home town, back into the vicinity of a certain blonde ex-girlfriend.

_When did I become this horribly insecure person?_ Lindsey asked herself, staring into the mirror with cold eyes. She barely recognized the woman standing there. Hair that was once a medium brown was now a light shade of blonde, dyed that color three days ago. _Great, I'm turning into Jennifer Jason Leigh, and Lucas has yet to show any sign of taking notice!_

"Should've never come here," she lamented, missing how happy her life had been before agreeing to follow Lucas to Tree Hill.

After getting ready, then making breakfast and finally waking Lucas up for work, she cleaned the house to take her mind off her troubles. Her efforts were met with limited success, so instead she decided to do some reconnaissance. _But what excuse do I use to get close to her?_ Lindsey wondered, only to stop at the lucky bamboo that Lucas had given her so long ago. She grinned a little, feeling inspired. _Perfect._

The next few moments were a blur as the editor found herself rushing to the nearest florist and purchasing another bamboo, which would've surprised her if Lindsey had stopped to think about it considering how small this town actually was, followed by her heading over to the front door of her rival's business. It wasn't until she was actually standing there with her bundle that Lindsey began to have second thoughts on her actions.

_Okay, Strauss, you can do this,_ she thought, taking a deep breath in order to gather her composure. She grasped the door handle, then entered the building with the potted plant under one arm. _Here we go._

"Hello," she greeted, walking up to the reception desk.

"Hello," a lanky bearded man returned the greeting, smiling back at her in a friendly, disarming manner. "Welcome to Red Bedroom Records. Can I help you?"

"Yes, you can," Lindsey nodded, returning the smile. She found herself reassured by the man for some reason. "Is Peyton Sawyer around, by any chance?"

"She's setting up her office at the moment, I think," he said, then gestured past the desk. "All the way down the hall, last door. Can't miss it since it's the only one with an actual door right now." She gave him a confused look. "Alot of the place is still under construction."

"Thanks, I'll be careful," she said before heading down the hall, quickly finding her rival's office. The door was slightly ajar at her approach and Lindsey pushed her way inside.

"Did the contractors finally get back?" Peyton asked, her back turned to Lindsey as she was hanging an album cover on the wall. _The Cure? Figures that she's a fan. Holy damn, those are alot of albums though!_

"Hi," the editor greeted, hoping to catch her nemesis offguard.

"Oh, I thought you were Max," the blonde remarked, disappointing Lindsey by how unaffected she seemed. "What brings you here, Lindsey?"

"Um, I brought you a house warming gift of sorts," she answered, bring her bundle up to the desk. She placed it on the desk top between them, then took a step back.

"Uh, thanks," Peyton replied, unwrapping the gift from its tissue paper only to stop with a confused expression. "What is it?"

"A good luck bamboo," Lindsey supplied.

"I have to admit, I'm not really familiar with the notion, but thanks again, all the same," the blonde admitted with a laugh, then frowned at the ringing telephone. "Oh, what now? Sorry, I have to get this."

"No problem," she shrugged, her gaze going back to the album covers adorning the walls. Everything from the Clash to the Cure to several other albums by artists that Lindsey wasn't familiar with covered the wall. Her eyes came to a stop on one in particular, it being one that Lindsey had just picked up herself the day before. "The Reminder, huh?"

"Oh, that one just came out," Peyton said suddenly, surprising her. "I'm predicting it's gonna be that girl's breakthrough album, though I have to say that I like 'Let It Die' more, if only by a small margin."

"I just bought both of those albums yesterday," Lindsey informed, turning to face Peyton. "They're pretty good."

"Yeah, Feist is pretty kick-ass," her rival grinned, then pointed behind the editor toward the door. "You want a quick tour before I head out?"

"Sure," she agreed, following the record producer after she passed her by.

"Now, mind you, it's only about halfway done, but this is going to be the recording studio," an excited Peyton explained moments later, the two of them standing in the middle of large room obviously still under construction.

"Wow, this is great," Lindsey breathed, impressed despite her initial dislike of the blonde girl. "But how are you affording all this?"

"Well, I took out a bunch of business loans, plus Max and Rachel are helping me out quite a bit as well," she answered, then quickly glanced at her watch. "Speaking of which, Rachel needs me to meet her in the park for some damned reason. That girl seriously needs a hobby."

"You know, you're different than I expected," she admitted, finding herself unexpectedly warming up to her rival.

"Whatever Lucas has told you about me, just know that they're all lies. Filthy, filthy lies," the other girl joked, then quirked her head to the side. "You colored your hair."

"At least somebody noticed," Lindsey sighed, wishing that her boyfriend was half as observant.

"I swear, that boy needs to start better appreciating the good things he has going on in his life," Peyton stated, looking slightly exasperated. "Anyhow, I really do have to leave now. Come on, I'll walk you to your car."

The editor followed her rival outside, silent the entire way to her car.

"Well, see you around, Lindsey," Peyton smiled before strolling down the street in the opposite direction.

"See you," she said softly, then entered her vehicle.

Lindsey sat quietly in the driver's seat for a moment, not entirely sure of what to make of this encounter. She glimped the other woman in the rear view mirror just as Peyton turned the corner, leaving Lindsey's line of sight. _Another time and place, Peyton,_ she frowned at the now empty mirror._ I think we could've been friends._

(Mia)

"Thanks," Mia nodded to a man who dropped some change into her open guitar case.

_Okay, I've been out here for almost two hours now and all I've managed to make is six bucks at the most,_ Mia grumbled internally, a forced smile pasted on her features while continuing to strum her guitar. _And maybe the beginnings of a sunburn. This is starting to suck all sorts of ass! Maybe I should've have stayed in the band. What if Jason was right when he said I had no talent?_

"Hey, kid," a red-headed woman called out, approaching from a nearby bench where she'd been sitting for the last ten minutes or so. "You gonna play another actual song soon, or what?"

"Oh, um, ri-right," Mia stammered, smiling uneasily back at her. _Doesn't this bitch have something better to do than sit around the park and listen to me humiliate myself?_

"Well, get playing already," she grinned, tossing a twenty into the case.

_Guess that answers my question,_ the musician sighed, then began playing the first song that came to mind. _Hope I don't mess this up..._

_"I've hardly been outside my room in days,  
__'Cause I don't feel that I deserve the sunshine's rays.  
__The darkness helped until the whiskey wore away,  
__And it's then I realize that conscience never fades.  
__When you're young you have this image of your life:  
__That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.  
__You make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,  
__And if you happen to, you wake completely lost.  
__But I will fight for you, be sure that I will fight  
__Until we're the special two once again."_

_"And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,  
__Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,  
__Because we're the special two.  
__And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together,  
__These arms will not be taught to need another's,  
__'Cause we're the special two."_

_"I remember someone old once said to me:  
__'Lies will lock you up with truth the only key.'  
__But I was comfortable and warm inside my shell,  
__And couldn't see this place would soon become my hell.  
__So is it better to tell and hurt, or lie to save their face?  
__Well, I guess the answer is don't do it in the first place.  
__I know I'm not deserving of your trust from you right now,  
__Oh, but if by chance you change your mind  
__You know, I will not let you down  
__'Cause we were the special two,  
__And will be again."_

_"And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,  
__Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,  
__Because we're the special two.  
__And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together,  
__These arms will not be taught to need another's,  
__'Cause we're the special two."_

_"I step outside my mind's eye for a minute.  
__And I look over me like a doctor looking for disease,  
__Or something that could ease the pain.  
__But nothing cures the hurt you, you bring on by yourself,  
__Just remembering, just remembering how we were..."_

_"And we would only need each other, we'd bleed together,  
__These hands would not be taught to hold another's,  
__Because we were the special two.  
__And we could only see each other, we'd bleed together,  
__These arms would not be taught to need another's,  
__'Cause we're the special two."_

"That was beautiful," a blonde woman said in a voice thick with emotion, her green eyes brimming. "That was Missy Higgins, wasn't it? The Special Two?"

"Yeah, I love that song, but this was the first time I've ever attempted it in public," Mia admitted, quietly adding. "I usually end up bawling like a little girl with a skinned knee about halfway through it."

"Well, it is a powerful song," she agreed, then held her hand out. "Peyton Sawyer."

"Mia Catalano," the musician replied, grasping her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"We were just going for lunch, would you like to join us?" Peyton offered, hiking her thumb to where the red-head from earlier was sitting by herself on the bench. "Rachel will buy."

"Hey," the red-head protested, taking exception.

"Sure, other than the twenty she gave me, it's been pretty dead anyway," Mia shrugged, then waved at the other girl. "Hey, Rachel. I'm Mia."

"You're a freeloader, like this whore," the copper maned woman muttered.

"Don't mind my friend, she's just annoyed that you almost made her cry," Peyton stated, earning herself a punch in the shoulder. "Ow!"

"Last time I do you a favor, Sawyer," Rachel stated, then turned to Mia. "Let's get going already. I'm starving."

"You get used to her after a while," Peyton grinned, noticing the younger woman's hesitation. "Come on, Mia. What do you have to lose?"

"Oh, why not?" Mia said, returning the grin. _At least I get a free meal, right?_

(Peyton)

"So you have your own label?" Mia asked before taking a bite of garlic bread.

"Yes," Peyton confirmed.

"And you want to sign me?"

"Uh-huh."

"But why?" Mia frowned, looking a thrown by the offer. "I'm nobody."

"Maybe, but you're a nobody with talent," Rachel interjected, then glanced at her glaring friend with an innocent expression. "What?"

"What my insensitive and idiotic friend is trying to say is that will change once we get your material recorded and circulated," Peyton elaborated. "But I'm not going to lie to you, Mia. Talent will only take you so far. It's also going to take alot of time, hard work and dedication on both of our parts to get things up and running. The fact of the matter is, our label-"

"Your label, Legs," Rachel cut in. "I simply gave you a quarter of my trustfund for the start up, remember?"

"Whatever, Rusty," the blonde said, rolling her eyes before continuing. "As I was saying, the label is just starting up and it'll be about another week before the recording studio is finished. So-"

"So I have a week to decide if I wanna sign with you guys, or take my business somewhere else, right?" Mia finished, quickly catching her drift.

"Exactly," the blonde said.

The young musician furrowed her brow in consideration, then suddenly nodded. "I don't need a week to decide. Count me in."

"Really?" Peyton asked, surprised at how quickly the girl had agreed.

"I do have one condition though," Mia added, her expression becoming almost embarrassed.

Peyton smiled softly, curious as to what this stipulation could be. "Hmm?"

"I kind of need a new place to live, seeing as I just recently broke up with my ass of a boyfriend and walked out on him," the raven haired songstress admitted, her gaze downward. "The motel I've been staying at is starting to get expensive and I'm running low on funds. Hence, the busking."

The blonde turned to her best friend. "Rach-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Rachel groaned, seeming to know what Peyton was about to suggest even before the blonde could even finish doing so. "I suppose she can take the basement suite."

"Well, that settles it, you'll move in with us," Peyton smiled.

"Really?" Mia almost squealed. "Sweet!"

"Yeah, it's just great, isn't it?" Rachel said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Afterward, when they'd picked up Mia's few possessions from the motel she'd been staying at and settled the young singer into her room, Peyton lay back onto her mattress and stared up at the ceiling.

_Everything is moving so fast,_ she marvelled, still shocked at how they'd managed to sign their first artist so easily. It was a little overwhelming, to be perfectly honest. Thinking about it though, Peyton was rather appreciative of how busy life had gotten since it kept her mind off of the Brooke situation most of the time.

Thinking of Brooke just then made the blonde remember Mia singing in the park, which ultimately convinced her that the young singer was worth taking a chance on. If she can evoke that kind of emotion with just one song, then the girl would definitely go places. _Bawling like a little girl with a skinned knee is putting it lightly!_

"Okay, I need a break from all this thinking," Peyton groaned, rolling over to grab the nearest source of distraction. The distraction of choice turned out to be one of the books she bought a few weeks back, but never got around to reading. The one in her grasp now was Lucas Scott's novel, 'The Unkindness of Ravens'. _Well, I have been meaning to start reading this anyway,_ she smiled, opening the novel up to its first page. As soon as she finished reading the first few paragraphs though, Peyton's eyes bugged out of her head. "What the hell?"

_'Like many of the great stories encountered throughout the history of literature, mine begins with a girl. Where Paris had Helen of Troy and Romeo had Juliet, I had Peyton Sawyer...'_

"I'm gonna kill him," Peyton promised under her breath, having read the opening paragraph for the third time. She quickly buried her nose back into the book, her curiousity now getting the better of the blonde. _Just as soon as I finish reading the damn thing, that is!_

**End scene.**

**I know, not my best. It gets things going again though, right?**

**Anyhow, read then review. Thanks!**

**Oh, yeah! The song Mia played in the park was 'the Special Two' by Missy Higgins. Don't you think it fits this story's versions of Breyton and Routh to a tee? So, a huge thank you goes out to YouTube's FadingSpark for introducing me to that song!**

**See you next update!**

**Track 12 ~ 'So Says I' by the Shins (from 'Chutes Too Narrow')**


	13. Thunder

_A/N - Okay, here it comes. Two of the first scenes I had planned out in my head are coming up in this chapter. Enjoy!_

**13 - Thunder**

(Rachel)

"Coffee...need coffee," Mia moaned, practically stumbling into the kitchen from the door leading downstairs. She was wearing blue boxers and a loose concert tee, dressed much the same way the red-head's other housemate did for bed. She also seemed to share Peyton's zombie-like demeanor in the morning, which could only mean one thing.

_Great, I got another caffiene addict on my hands,_ Rachel shook her head at the girl while preparing breakfast. _Hope she isn't a super bitch like Sawyer is before having a cup._

"I'm hungry," Mia whined, almost dropping the cup of coffee she had just grabbed herself before walking over to sit down at the table.

"Don't whine, it's unattractive," she chided, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks, I'll try to remember that, Mom," Mia pouted, her eyes closed.

"You look hung over," Rachel commented, purposely trying to annoy the girl. "Were you drinking by yourself in the basement, or something?"

Mia frowned with her eyes still closed, then stuck her middle finger up in the red-head's general direction.

"Nice," the red-head scoffed, amused by the girl's antics.

"Too witty to be tired right now," the black haired musician mumbled, not knowing that she'd jumbled her statement.

"Well, I know one way to wake you up," Rachel declared, opening up a brown package she'd removed from the fridge just five minutes ago. She took several pieces of the bacon that was inside the paper wrapping and flung it onto the frying pan, resulting in loud snaps and pops from the cooking oil within. "You hear that? That's market bacon hitting the pan, kid."

"Dude, I'm probably not even two years younger than you, so don't call me kid," Mia complained, blinking rapidly.

Rachel ignored her, choosing instead to carry on with her bit. "Today, a child is born unto us, and its name shall be bacon!"

"Will there be eggs to go along with this child?" Mia asked, looking more awake by the second at the prospect of food.

She pointed to the nearby carton on the counter. "Of course."

"I love you," Mia stated, her expression completely sincere.

"God, you're easy," Rachel laughed.

"Yeah, it made me really popular in high school," the younger woman quipped.

"I bet it did," the former model snorted, then grinned when her other zombie room mate entered the kitchen. "Good morning sunshine!"

"Eat me," Peyton sneered, heavy bags under her eyes. Her resemblance to an angry racoon was making it hard for Rachel not to burst out laughing.

"You wish, Sawyer," she goaded, unable to resist the temptation to do so. She turned away to flip the bacon before returning her attention back to other girls.

"Not a morning person, I take it?" Mia inquired, shrinking down when the blonde glared at her. "Guess not."

Peyton sighed, "I'm sorry, Mia. I just didn't sleep very well last night."

"What the hell?" Rachel cried in mock hurt, hand to her chest. "The new kid gets an apology, but I don't?"

"You don't deserve one," the blonde grumbled, plopping onto the chair to Mia's right.

"Whatever," her best friend snorted, grabbing a cup of coffee and setting it in front of Peyton. "But in all seriousness, Sawyer, you look like crap. What's the matter? Were you thinking about HER again?"

"Her?" Mia asked, intrigued.

"No, I wasn't thinking of Brooke," Peyton denied, then glared at Rachel. "Hey, nice way of easing the new kid into the fact that I'm gay, by the way." She nervously glanced over at the singer. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter to me if you're into girls or not," the singer shrugged, leaning forward in interest. "So who's Brooke?"

"Just some skank we used to know," Rachel cut in, letting her hostility get the better of her. She returned to the stove and replaced the strips of bacon with new ones, then once again sat down in her seat. The red-head gave her best friend the most innocent look she could muster, to which Peyton simply rolled her eyes.

"Brooke's my ex," Peyton elaborated to the newcomer, then took a careful sip of her coffee. "We broke up a while back, but that has almost nothing to do with my lack of sleep."

"Sure it doesn't," Rachel scoffed.

"You know what? I think it would be easier if I just showed you why I couldn't sleep," the blonde stated, looking rather annoyed with the conversation. "Be right back."

Mia glanced over at Rachel, eyebrows raised in question. The red-head shrugged, a little curious as to what it could possibly be if it wasn't centered around Brooke.

"How's the bacon coming along?" Mia asked after a moment of silence.

"I shut off the pan so it wouldn't burn while we talked," she informed the brunette, then frowned in confusion at the paperback novel that had suddenly flew onto the table between them.

"That thing's old news, Sawyer," Rachel said, noticing the title.

"Not to me," Peyton replied as the third girl in the room scooped the book up and began reading it.

"Holy crap! You have a book about you, Peyton. That is so cool!" Mia exclaimed, then furrowed her brow in confusion to the blonde's frown. "What? Not cool?"

"Not cool," she confirmed.

"Are you telling me you just read that thing?" Rachel cried, her eyes wide in surprise. She had always assumed that Peyton had read Lucas' crappy novel of pathetic lies already. Peyton nodded, resulting in the copper haired former model to start squealing while jumping up and down in one spot. "Oh, my God! This is going to be priceless! I so have to be there when you rip Lucas a new one!"

"Rachel..."

"Oh, come on," she begged, recogizing that tone. Peyton shook her head to the negative, so the red-head pointed at her best friend while scowling. "You suck!"

"This is actually pretty good so far," Mia stated, her attention stapled to the words in front of her. "Is it okay if I-" She began, stopping mid-sentance when Peyton snatched the book from her. "I'll take that as a no."

"I'll get you a signed copy before I castrate the dirty son of a murderous bitch," the blonde promised.

"Sweet!" Mia cried.

Rachel was confused. "Lucas' mom killed somebody?"

"I was calling Dan the bitch, not Karen," Peyton explained, frowning at her like she was an idiot. "We like Karen, remember?

"Oh, right," she snickered, remembering where Dan Scott was currently residing. _Heh. Prison. Bitch. Funny!_

"Who?" Mia chirped up, completely lost in the conversation.

"It's a long and complicated story," the blonde sighed.

"Read the book sometime," Rachel quipped, then turned to pout at her best friend. "I can't believe you won't let me come with you. I really wanted to watch the brutal mutilation of Lucas Scott, hack novelist extraordinaire."

"It's better this way. No witnesses," Peyton said in a tone that made her best friend and confidant wonder if she was joking or not. "What time is it?"

"Around eight o'clock, I think," Mia supplied.

The curly haired blonde nodded. "Okay, I'm going to head over to the high school. When I get back, I want to take you over to the office and get you acclimated with the place, even if it's only half way constructed right now."

"Sounds like a plan," the young singer agreed.

"See you then," Peyton stated, then turned to Rachel just as she was about to speak. "And for the last time, you can't come with me."

"Fine," she groaned, throwing her arms up.

"Bye, guys," the blonde said before stalking out of the house with purpose in her step.

Mia and Rachel exchanged curious glances, neither one expecting Peyton to just up and leave at that moment. Add in the fact that Peyton was still in her sleepware told them that the blonde must be pretty pissed. They stood in the deafening quiet, neither seeming to know what to do next.

"Eggs?" Mia asked, finally breaking the silence.

Rachel sighed, disappointed that the other girl hadn't suggested to following after their friend. "Scrambled or sunny side up?"

(Lucas)

_This play won't work,_ Lucas scoffed, regarding one of the many sheets from his playbook. _At least, not with my current roster. Damn, I wish Quintin would get his ass in gear already. So much raw talent, so little concept of teamwo-_

"Hmm?" Lucas grunted, his attention diverted from his work by a knock on his office's doorframe. His gaze was met by a haggard and fairly perturbed Peyton Sawyer, who was dressed like she'd come over here straight from the bedroom in her pajama pants and sweatshirt. "Oh, hey, Peyt-"

The blonde held a hand up to cut him off, her expression telling the writer-turned-basketball coach volumes on her current mood. She then held her other arm out in front of her, grasping what appeared to be a book in her hand.

Fear gripped Lucas then, because he recognized the cover. "Peyton..."

"Shut up. Don't say a word until I'm done, Lucas," she snapped before taking a deep breath, then began to read aloud. "In that moment, my triumph was not a state championship but a simple moment of clarity. The realization that we'd always been meant for each other and every instinct to the contrary had simply been a denial of the following truth."

Lucas winced in anticipation. "So, you finally read it, huh?"

"I don't know if I should be feeling flattered, or if I should be slapping you upside the head about now!" Peyton fumed, closing the book shut.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. "That's pretty much what Haley said you'd say."

"I can't believe you wrote all this...crap about us," the blonde cried, waving the book around in the air. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Could you lower your voice, please?" Lucas begged, desperately hoping that nobody would hear her ranting.

"I will not lower my voice!" Peyton shouted, continuing to rail. "This is crap, Lucas! All of this?" She shoved the book in his face fro a moment before pulling it back. "It's bullshit! And what the hell is with Rachel and Cooper hooking up halfway through, huh? No wonder why she looks like she wants to kill you all the time. Everybody knows she can't stand Cooper! Hell, the only way she'd hate you more is if you wrote a sequel where she marries Dan or something equally ridiculous!" She suddenly started smacking Lucas with the book, shocking him. "Dumb ass!"

"Ow!" He cringed, trying to shield himself from her continuous strikes."What the hell, Peyt? Stop it!"

"You are an idiot," she snapped, still hitting Lucas with his own novel. "Why would you write this entire book about me?"

"Because I'm in love with you!"

Both of them froze in shock. Lucas hadn't meant for that to slip out, especially since it wasn't completely true. Or was it? Before Lucas could dwell further on that particular question, the blonde in front of him began to swing that damned book with renewed vigor.

"What?" Peyton shrieked, pelting the writer with blow after blow. "Have you forgotten what I told you when I was bleeding to death in the library? Do I have to remind you that I'm gay? I'm a fucking lesbian, you idiot!"

"Would you quit hitting me already?" He yelled.

Peyton stopped hitting him, breathing hard and glaring daggers. "And what about Lindsey, huh?" The curly haired blonde hit Lucas once again, but this strike lacked any real sort of power since she was obviously exhausted. "No wonder why she's so suspicious of me," she said, her voice cracking. "I can't believe you'd try and pit us against each like that. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Lucas said, suddenly exhausted himself. "I'm sorry."

"Lindsey deserves better than an asshole like you, Lucas Scott," Peyton stated with a sniffle before turning on her heel and walking out the door. Lucas glanced up, noticing that several members of the basketball team were milling about, obviously trying to act that they hadn't just bore witness to this humiliating encounter.

"Shit," growled Lucas, running a hand through his hair.

(Brooke)

_I hate Wednesdays,_ Brooke pouted, chin propped in her left palm. The bells above the doors jingled, announcing the arrival of another customer. The fashionista lazily glanced over, only to straighten up at the sight in front of her. "Peyton?"

"Did you know that Luke wrote an entire novel on how he and I are meant to be together?" Peyton cried, distraught. "I mean, who does that?"

"Lucas does, apparently," Brooke replied, walking around the counter to approach an obviously exhausted Peyton Sawyer. "Come here, have a seat. You look completely wiped."

"I'm so tired, but I'm also so angry," the blonde said while allowing her ex-girlfriend to lead the her towards one of the many comfortable backed benches that littered the Clothes Over Bros outlet. "God, my head feels all fuzzy."

"How long have you been awake?" Brooke asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Peyton sighed, slumping forward. "How long does it usually take to read an entire three hundred and seventy page novel in one sitting?"

"Depends on the reader," the brunette replied.

"Add onto that a sixteen hour work day, and that's how long I've been up," the blonde added with a groan, leaning back against the cushions. "These benches are really comfy..."

"Um, P?" Brooke gently rocked her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

"Honestly? I don't know," she admitted, gifting Brooke with a little smile. "I just...well, after finally reading that stupid novel, and freaking out on Luke, I guess, I just...I wanted to see you. I don't know why, I just did."

"Oh," Brooke brushed back a stray curl from her ex-girlfriend's face, smiling softly at her. Thirty seconds went by before Brooke blurted out at a near whisper. "God, you're still so incredibly beautiful."

A tired looking Peyton licked her lips, then began to lean towards her. Brooke began to follow suit, leaning forward until their lips were a hairbreadths apart.

"Well, well, well," Victoria sneered, shattering the moment. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Brooke shot up from her seat to stand in front of the elder Davis woman. "Mother, when did you get here?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she heard Peyton swear under her breath before the blonde stood up as well and walked out the door without a backwards glance.

"Peyton, wait," Brooke rasped, but to no avail. "Damn it!"

"Now really, Brooke," her mother chided from behind, where Brooke had risen from her chair in the failed attempt to stop Peyton's departure. "I thought that this little experimental phase of yours was already over and done with."

"My what?" Brooke whispered, shocked.

"Well, this settles it. We're heading back to New York," Victoria stated, ignoring her daughter's stunned expression and turning to leave. "This vacation is over."

"Like hell it is," Brooke snapped, freezing her mother in her tracks.

The elder Davis turned to face her daughter, her surprise on clear display. "Excuse me?"

"From the sound of it, you knew we were together back then, didn't you? And you said nothing?" Brooke scowled, deciding now was the time to clear things up.

"I'd have to had been blind, deaf and dumb not to notice how that girl hung around and sponged off you, Brooke," her mother answered in distain. "She was a parasite then, and she's a parasite now. She is nothing but white trash, and you can do so much better than a little whore like her."

"Don't you dare talk about her that way!" Brooke cried, stepping forward to defend the woman she loved. The woman she'd always love. "I can't believe that I let my relationship with Peyton turn to crap because I was so afraid of how you'd take it, only to find out that you knew about us the entire time!"

"You're better off without her, my darling daughter," Victoria stated calmly in that familiar condescending tone of hers. "Besides, we've worked too hard on this company to let some girl you had a misguided crush on ruin everything."

"It wasn't just a crush, Mom," Brooke cried. "I loved her! I was in love with her! The day Peyton left me, I felt part of my heart die!"

"Quit being so dramatic, Brooke," her mother scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"When did your heart die, mother?" Brooke asked.

"You were young and impressionable. She simply took advantage of that. Add in the fact that you were never a very bright girl, and that makes you a ripe target for a con artist like Peyton Sawyer," Victoria said, ignoring the question. "I'm only trying to do what's best for you, my dear."

_More like what's best for you,_ Brooke thought, fuming.

"Now let's go to that tacky house you purchased for your luggage, and then we can finally leave this disgusting hamlet for good," a triumphant sounding Victoria commanded, taking her daughter's sudden silence as a sign of victory. She made her way past Brooke towards the front door, most likely wearing a smug smile.

"You're fired," the fashionista rasped.

The click of high heels coming to a halt on the hardwood told Brooke that her sorry excuse of a mother that she'd heard her. "What?"

Brooke slowly turned around to repeat herself, only louder and clearer than the first time. "You're fired."

"You can't fire me, I'm your mother," Victoria hissed, an unfamiliar look in her eye. It took the younger of the Davises a second to recognize it, but there it was for Brooke to see. Fear. It spurred her onward.

"Like I said," she rasped, glaring at her mother. "You're fired."

"This isn't the end of this, Brooke," Victoria promised ominously.

"No, it's just the end of us, _Victoria_," Brooke stated, then pointed to the door. "Now leave."

As soon as Victoria vacated the premises, Brooke sat back down on the bench. She glanced sidelong at where Peyton had been sitting just minutes earlier, already missing the blonde's presence. _What would've happened if my mother hadn't shown up when she did, I wonder? Would Peyton have freaked out after the kiss? God, why couldn't my mother have just continued to ignore me like back in high school?_

"Brooke?" Millicent asked, sounding concerned. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is better than alright, Millie," Brooke smiled up at her assistant, who the fashionista just remembered had been in the back doing inventory this entire morning. "I'm free. I'm finally free."

**End scene.**

**Okay, I did the Victoria/Brooke falling out scene sooner than in the series, but I just felt it was time to remove at least one of Breyton's many obstacles.**

**You know the drill. Review after reading. Thanks!**

**See you next update!**

**Track 13 ~ 'Thunder' by Boys Like Girls (from 'Boys Like Girls')**

**Next episode: The Raven's first offical game of the season sets off a showdown in the school library, and the beginnings of SKIA are revealed.**


	14. There's A Class For This

_A/N - Okay, I was in a silly mood when I wrote this, so it's going to be noticably lighter in its tone than most of the previous chapters. Hopefully you'll enjoy it nonetheless._

**14 - There's A Class For This**

(Skillz)

"Nah, Nate, I ain't goin' to say anything 'bout that to them," Skillz said, cellphone pressed to his ear as he made his way up the cobbled walkway towards Rachel's family's old house. He had just come from the high school and decided to head over to see if the girls were coming to the season opener when Nathan had called him, wanting to talk about Lucas' recent engagement to Lindsey. "I'll leave that sorta thing to you, yo wife or Mouth. I'm staying the hell out of it."

"Yeah, that would probably be the best thing to do, wouldn't it?" Nathan sighed from his end, sounding tired of the whole subject. "They're bound to find out one way or another anyway, right?"

"You worry too much, dawg," he chuckled, reaching the front door. "I'm at their door, so I'll see you back at the school later, ah-ight?"

"Yeah, sure," Nathan grunted back. "I'll see you then."

"Bye," Skillz said, before hanging up and pressing the doorbell. His thoughts meandered to the news he'd received on Thursday evening, still wondering if he should be happy for one of his oldest friends or be slapping Lucas around to knock some sense into the boy. It was a solid two minutes before Skillz realized that nobody was answering the door, so he hit the doorbell again. After another minute of waiting in vain, he decided just to try the door. Just as his hand was about to close on the handle though, the door swung open to reveal a pair of unfamiliar but beautiful brown eyes staring back at him. _Wow._

"Hi," the girl greeted with a friendly smile.

It took Skillz a moment to find his voice again, but when he finally managed to speak it came out slightly higher than usual. "Ah, are Rach...and Peyton 'round?"

"Nope, Peyton went down to the office to overlook the finishing touches on the studio, while Rachel is...honestly, I have no idea where Rachel went," she admitted with her index finger pressed to her chin, furrowing her brow cutely before brightening up again. "But if you wanna come in and wait a couple of minutes, one of them is bound to show up soon."

"Ah-ight," he said, a little thrown by the girl's friendliness.

"Come on, I just made some coffee," she said, turning her back to him and walking away. "Oh, I'm Mia, by the way."

"Antwon," he returned, following her after closing the door. "But everybody calls me 'Skillz'."

"Yeah, I recognized you from Rachel's yearbook," Mia said, stopping in front of the kitchen door to smirk over her shoulder at him. "Cute picture, if you don't mind me saying."

"Thanks," he grinned, taking the compliment in stride.

"Don't get cocky," she warned playfully, then pushed her way into the kitchen.

He followed after her again, finding himself intrigued by this strange girl. That was when it dawned on him that he knew absolutely nothing about this girl besides her name. "So, what's your story?"

"Homeless musician taken in by a kind-hearted record producer and her psychotic red-headed best friend," Mia answered, walking over to the counter where the coffee machine was stationed. "What do you take in your coffee?"

"Don't drink the stuff, but if you got anything cold, that'd be coo'," Skillz said, sitting down at the table.

"I think we've got some light beer, I'll check," the raven haired beauty replied, changing directions towards the fridge. "Gimme a sec."

_Hmm, nice,_ Skillz nodded in appreciation, watching Mia as she rifled through the fridge before shaking his head at himself. A moment later, she sat across from him, placing a bottle in front of him while opening one for herself. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I thought you were gonna have coffee?"

"I changed my mind," she grinned, sticking her tongue out. "So, what's with the suit? You a banker or something?"

"Nah, I ain't a banker," he snorted, taking a quick sip of his beer. "I'm the assistant coach of the Ravens, so I hafta set an example to the boys on the team on home game etiquette."

"Oh, so you work with that guy who wrote the book about Peyton, huh?" Mia laughed. "Man, was she ever ticked about that!"

"Well, it's not like nobody warned him that might go down," Skillz snorted. "Luke may be my boy, but it serves him right, know what I'm sayin'?"

"I think it's sweet, if a just little misguided," she shrugged. "It's not like it's his fault that Peyton bats for the other team, right?"

"I guess," he agreed, taking a long swig from the bottle. The two spoke for several minutes on various subjects, the atmosphere almost like that of a date. Skillz hadn't been so at ease with a girl like this in a long time. It was a good feeling.

"So, how'd you get your nickname?" Mia asked with a little smirk.

"Well, that's somethin' I'll have t-" Skillz began, only to be interupted by the kitchen door suddenly swinging open. "Oh, hey, Red."

"Hey," the red-head greeted curtly, four plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from her hands. "One of you wanna give me a hand here?"

Mia began clapping, bringing a laugh from Skillz and a scowl from Rachel.

"Smart ass little bitch," the red-head sighed, rolling her eyes. She placed the bags on the floor, then met Skillz gaze. "Anyhow, what brings you here, Antwon?"

"Just dropped by to see if you and Skinny Girl be coming to show your support for the Ravens tonight," he replied.

"I can't really speak for Peyton, but I'll be there," Rachel nodded.

"Well, I gotta go and meet up wit' Nate, but I'll be expecting to see you ladies there," Skillz said, then winked at the raven tressed Mia. "That includes you."

"Ah-ight," she grinned back.

"Oh, jeez, don't make me get the hose, you two," Rachel groaned, having picked up on their not-so-subtle flirting.

"Well, see you then," Skillz said before leaving with a broad grin on his face. _Damn, that girl be fine!_

(Mia)

"I told you we were early," Peyton complained, throwing her head back in annoyance. "But then again, nobody ever listens to what I say, do they?"

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Rachel smirked, taunting the blonde. "I wasn't listening."

"Christ, you two are like children sometimes," Mia admonished, glancing around the nearly empty gymnasium in search of Skillz. _Where is he?_

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Peyton asked, confused at how her newest friend was acting. "Who are you looking for?"

"She's looking for Skillz," Rachel answered, causing Mia to blush.

"Skillz? What? Why?" Peyton frowned, looking even more confused. "Did I miss something this afternoon?"

An indignant Mia turned to Rachel, sticking her chin out. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, please," the red-head scoffed. "If I hadn't shown up when I did, the two of you would probably have ended up going at it on the kitchen table."

"Dude, we eat on that," the blonde chided teasingly.

"We were just talking," a now fiercely blushing Mia denied, shoving at the laughing Rachel. "Bitch."

"Oh, hey, it's Mouth," Peyton pointed, shifting everybody's attention to an approaching blonde man.

"Shit, how do I look?" Rachel asked, straightening out her clothes.

Mia shot Peyton a questioning look, since the blonde man didn't seem like the red-head's type at all. From what Mia had figured out in the time she'd spent living with the statuesque woman, Rachel was a former model and could probably have her choice of any guy (or girl, for that matter) she wanted. So this Mouth guy sending her into a near tizzy threw Mia for a loop. _Then again, I've only known her for a few days, so what do I know? Maybe she likes her men to be a bit on the geeky side._

"Long story," the blonde mouthed.

"Hey, guys," Mouth greeted, waving with his free hand as there was a case of some kind in the other. "Here to watch the game?"

"Yeah, Skillz asked if we could come out to support the team," Peyton shrugged, still looking like she didn't want to be here. "Looks like we showed up a little early though, huh?"

"Only by about an hour," he chuckled.

"Mia, this is one of our oldest friends, Mouth McFadden," the blonde said, introducing the pair. "Mouth, this is Mia Catalano, Red Bedroom Record's premiere artist, as well as our new room mate,"

"She's also the reason why we're so early," Rachel chirped. "She just couldn't wait to see Antwon again."

"Would you please shut up?" Mia glared at the red-head, then held her hand out to Mouth. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Mouth smiled, then gestured towards a table near the bleachers. "Well, I've gotta get set up for the webcast, so I'll see you later."

"I'll come and help," Rachel offered, linking arms with him.

Peyton and Mia exchanged surprised looks before the blonde quirked her head slightly, regarding the raven haired musician with her large green eyes. "Wanna see where I got shot and almost bled to death?"

"Sounds like a fun way to kill an hour," Mia nodded, figuring that the reason she'd come here would probably be too busy with his team to see her right now anyway.

(Peyton)

"And this is where I dragged myself after being shot," Peyton explained with an exaggerated chirp, guiding the younger woman into the library.

"Sounds like you had fun," Mia remarked dryly.

"Yup, it was loads of fun," she snorted, leading the way down the aisles. "They've obviously changed the carpet, but if memory serves me right, this should be where Luke found me."

"Must have been scary," Mia whispered.

"One of the worst days of my life," the blonde breathed, still a bit shaken from the entire experience. Peyton shook her head, then decided to change the subject. "So, Skillz, huh?"

"Shut up," the younger woman said, looking away in a cute attempt to hide her blushing.

"Hey, I'm not judging," the blonde replied, lifting her hands up. "In fact, if I swung that way, I'd be tempted to make a move on him myself."

"I really don't know how to respond to that," Mia frowned before they both began laughing.

"Is this a private party?" Brooke's unmistakable voice cut in, surprising the pair. "Or can anybody join in?"

"Brooke," Peyton whispered, barely noticing Haley and Lindsey following behind her ex-fiance. This was the first time she'd seen the fashionista since their almost kiss, and the blonde didn't really know where they stood right now.

"Ooh, this is gonna get awkward, isn't it?" Mia nervously asked no one in particular, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Um, hi, guys," Peyton greeted, already feeling the air in the room starting to get tense. "What's up?"

"We're here for the season opener," Haley answered, coming to stand beside Brooke. "I take it that's why you're here, too?"

"Yup, we're here to show our team spirit. Go Ravens!" Mia chirped, desperately trying to lighten the mood. "Hello, I'm Mia."

"Uh, hi, Mia," Brooke waved, shooting the blonde a quizzical glance before introducing the other two women present. "I'm Brooke, and these two lovely ladies are Haley and Lindsey, also known as the present and future Mrs. Scotts."

"Whoa, really?" Peyton asked, surprised.

"Yeah, really," Lindsey smirked triumphantly at the blonde, holding her left hand up for all to see the sparkling engagement ring on her finger. "Lucas asked me to marry him on Wednesday night."

"Wednesday night, huh?" Peyton scoffed, glancing over at Mia while trying to desperately suppress a laugh.

"I guess congratulations are in order then," the dark-tressed musician snickered, knowing exactly why her producer was struggling to contain herself.

"What's so funny?" Lindsey frowned, telling the blonde that this wasn't what she'd been expecting from this situation.

"Oh, nothing," Peyton said in a sing-song voice.

"Peyton," Haley cut in with that motherly chiding tone of hers.

"Okay, I'll play nice," the blonde promised, throwing her hands up in surrender.

"No, it's fine if she doesn't, Haley," Lindsey sneered, glaring coldly at Peyton. "It's not my fault she's jealous that I'm engaged to Lucas, while she isn't."

"Huh?" Peyton squeaked, not quite sure she'd heard that right.

"Oh, my God," Mia laughed out loud before lifting a hand to forcefully suppress it, her shoulders shaking from the effort.

"Aw, jeez," Haley groaned, rolling her eyes.

Peyton glanced over at her former lover, frowning in confusion. "Is she serious?"

"Why the hell are you asking me?" Brooke shrugged.

"You mean nobody told her?" Peyton asked, then raised her voice when neither Brooke or Haley would meet her gaze. "You have got to be kidding me! What the hell, you guys?"

"What's going on?" Lindsey demanded, taking her turn at being confused. "What didn't they tell me?"

"Dude, Peyton's g-" Mia began.

"Going to swallow her pride and be the bigger person about this," Peyton cut in, deciding to have a little fun at the newly engaged girl's expense. It wasn't lost on Peyton that she was being petty, but Lindsey was obviously trying to goad her by flashing that ring at her. _Besides, that idiot Lucas should've told her the truth by now, instead of trying to dump the responsibility on someone else. Whatever, it's not my problem._ "Congrats on the engagement, Lindsey. I hope it works out for you crazy kids," the blonde said with the most genuine smile she could muster, then gestured to the youngest of the five women present. "Come on, Mia. Let's go before all the good seats are taken."

"You're the boss, Tony Danza," she quipped before following Peyton to the door, only to bump into her when it wouldn't open. "What's up?"

"The door seems to be stuck," Peyton told her, pushing against it to no effect.

"Um, guys," Brook called to them, grabbing their attention. She held up a clipboard for all to see. "They're getting fixed over the weekend."

"We're trapped?" Mia glanced at Peyton with wide eyes, then turned to start beating the door with her hand and yelling at the top of her lungs. "Help!"

**End scene.**

**I know, Peyton's being petty, but can you really blame her? Lindsey did kind of goad her. Anyhow, what do you think of Skia so far? And why is Rachel being clingy with Mouth all of a sudden?**

**Anyways, thanks for reading and don't forget to review.**

**See you next update, people!**

**Track 14 ~ 'There's A Class For This' by Cute Is What We Aim For (from 'The Same Old Blood Rush With a New Touch')**

**P.S.- Who else is excited about Haley and Mia's upcoming crossover appearance on **_**Life Unexpected**_**? Just me then, eh? Well, shit...**


	15. Mood Swing

**15 - Mood Swing**

(Haley)

"Help!" Lindsey yelled, banging the door in a futile attempt to grab somebody's attention. "Help us, we're trapped!"

"Dude, you're wasting time and energy," that black haired girl who'd accompanied Peyton here, a bored expression on her face. She'd been doing what Lindsey was now doing for about two or three minutes before resigning herself to fate, stating that somebody was bound to show up to rescue them. Eventually. She now sat calmly atop a table, strumming the guitar she'd found behind the librarian's desk.

"Oh, shut up, you little shit," Lindsey sneered, glaring at the younger woman.

"Hey, don't talk to her like that!" Peyton shouted, coming to her friend's defense before Mia could react.

"Okay, let's all just settle down," Haley stepped in, playing the part of diplomat for the group. "Fighting amongst ourselves won't get us out of here any sooner."

"Teacher Wife is right," Brooke interjected, laying a reassuring hand on the future Mrs. Lucas Scott's shoulder. "You okay, Lindsey?"

"Thanks, I'll be fine," a pale Lindsey said before taking a deep breath, then looked directly at the musician. "Sorry, it's just I get claustrophobic."

"We're in a giant library," Mia said, looking a little confused.

"I know, but it's the fact that we're locked inside is what's getting to me," the newly engaged woman explained, hugging her abdomen anxiously. "So...yeah, sorry."

"It's forgotten," the newest member of the group shrugged, returning to the task of tuning the guitar. She began playing a familiar tune, then stopped suddenly before smiling over at Haley. "Recognize the tune?"

"Of course," the young mother smiled back. "I did write it, after all."

"I know, just making sure," Mia nodded, then shot Peyton a glare. "I can't believe you never mentioned being friends with Haley James Scott."

"It never came up," the blonde shrugged.

"Oh, whatever," the musician muttered, hamming it up.

_She's trying to keep things light,_ Haley noted, appreciating the girl's attempt. Haley decided that she liked this girl, her playful personality making Mia someone that the young mother would like to befriend._ I wonder what her ties to Peyton are though?_

"So, Mia, how do you and Peyton know each other?" Brooke asked, obviously having the same question in her mind as Haley. Her tone was meant to be light-hearted, but the young mother could tell that the fashionista was jealous.

"She's my producer, as well as my room mate," the dark haired singer answered easily, turning her gaze towards Brooke. "But that's all. So you can sheath the claws already, Miss Fashion Diva."

"Mia," a shocked Peyton cried in admonishment.

"Any requests?" Mia asked, ignoring the blonde.

"I can't believe I'm missing _Torchwood_ for this," Peyton muttered under her breath, hiding her face behind a hand. "If only we had cell reception in here, then we could just call Rachel or Mouth to come and rescue us."

"Well, we do have internet access, if that helps," Lindsey announced out of the blue, catching everybody's attention.

"Yay, now we can download some porn," Mia joked, placing the instrument aside on the table.

"Could you be serious for one second?" Lindsey frowned, not amused.

"I like pizza," the musician grinned.

"That's it! Mia, you're a genius," Peyton cried, jumping up to commandeer the computer from her faux blonde counterpart. "May I?"

Lindsey let out an annoyed sigh, then stepped aside. "Be my guest."

"Thank you," the blonde nodded, taking the vacated posititon to begin typing on the keyboard. "If things go right, we'll be out of here in about thirty minutes."

"Well, that's a relief," the other blonde muttered.

"Hear that, I'm a genius," Mia whispered to Haley as they all gathered around the computer.

"Oh, shut up," Haley scoffed, smirking at the younger woman in amusement.

"You're mean, Haley James Scott," she pouted.

"Okay, why are you on the Alessandro's Bistro website?" Brooke inquired, standing closer than necessary to her ex-girlfriend.

"Because we're going to order a pizza, which will then be delivered here," Peyton answered before she also noticed how near the brunette was to her. "Standing a little close there, Brookie Cookie."

"You haven't called me that in, like, forever," Brooke smiled softly while taking a step back. The young mother smiled at the sight, reminding Haley of the pair's happier days. "Anyhow, what are we getting?"

"Um, I don't know," her ex-girlfriend admitted. "Any suggestions?"

"Oh, Canadian bacon, pepperoni, and cheese," Mia piped in, quickly adding. "And don't forget mushrooms!"

Brooke scrunched her face in disgust, shaking her head. "No mushrooms."

"Black olives?" Mia asked.

"Yeah, that sounds really good, actually," the fashion designer nodded.

"Uh, guys," Peyton began, only to be interupted.

"Jesus Christ, will you just order the damn pizza already?" Lindsey shouted, having lost her patience with the whole conversation.

"Okay, someone needs a Midol," the first blonde muttered under her breath.

"Screw you, you bulimic whore," the second blonde retorted, taking a shot at Peyton's slim frame.

"Don't make me punch you in the tits, Strauss," Peyton threatened, narrowing her eyes. "Because I'll do it, if you keep pushing me."

Lindsey took a step forward. "Oh, I'd like to see you tr-"

"Guys, enough," Haley cried, rushing forward to step between them. "Lindsey, go over there. I'll join you in a second." After Lindsey stalked away without saying another word, Haley looked over at her friend in disbelief. "Punch you in the tits? Really?"

"Meh," Peyton shrugged in response.

"So...um," Brooke drawled, brow raised quizically as they all turned their attention to her. "What'd we get?"

"Ungh," Haley and Peyton groaned at the same time, while Mia simply laughed out loud.

"What?" Brooke cried. "It's a totally valid question!"

(Brooke)

"I'm bored," Brooke whined. "How much longer do we have to wait for that pizza boy to show up?"

"About two minutes less than the last time you asked," an annoyed Mia grumbled, then glanced at Peyton. "Is she always this whiny?"

"For the most part," the blonde nodded.

"Hey, I resemble that remark," Brooke protested with a laugh.

"I know you do," Peyton chuckled.

"You two are cute," Mia smiled, looking between them. "Is this how you guys were before the breakup?"

"Uh, excuse me?" Brooke asked, her eyes went wide. She glaced over at Peyton in confusion. "How does she know about us?"

"I told her," her ex shrugged, like it was no big deal.

She rose from her chair to stand in front of the blonde, suddenly very angry. "What gives you the right to talk about us to strangers?"

"She's not a stranger, Brooke. Mia is my friend and she was curious, so I told her," Peyton defended.

"Whoa, take it easy guys," the musician cried, rising from her own chair to step between them. "Let's just pretend I didn't say anything, okay?"

"So, you'll tell your new friend the truth about us, but not Lindsey?" Brooke accused, ignoring the newcomer's plea. "When did you become so cruel?"

"And when did you become such an advocate for revealing the truth, Brooke?" Peyton demanded, fire in her eyes.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Haley cried, arriving with Lindsey. "We can hear you from the other side of the library!"

"Last time I saw you, you were still letting your mother make all your decisions for you," the blonde continued, disregarding their friend's question. "While at the same time hiding the truth about who you really are!"

"Well, not all of us have the luxury of two dead mothers, Peyton," Brooke snapped, not exactly thinking clearly when she retorted to the blonde's accusation. She wished she had thought it through though because in that instant, something unprecedented happened. Peyton's hand flew out to strike her hard across the face, stunning everybody in attendance. The fashionista stumbled back into the table from the sudden blow, probably stunned more than anybody else. Never once in the entire time they'd known each other had Peyton ever struck her in anger, not even after the whole Brathan sex tape incident in their senior year.

"Holy shit," Mia breathed, completely taken aback.

"How dare you," the blonde hissed slowly, angry tears slipping down her face. "You know what I went through when they died, how much it hurt me because you were there beside me both times. So how fucking dare you."

"I didn't mean it like that," she said unsteadily, hand pressed against her cheek. She looked up and met the blonde's glare head on. "What I meant to say was that, at least...at least you knew your moms loved you, Peyton. They loved you unconditionally. They didn't go out of their way to try and make you feel like you had to buy their love, didn't make you feel like you had to earn it!"

Peyton's face dropped, her righteous anger from before instantly sapped and replaced by regret and pity. "Brooke..."

Unable to stand seeing that expression on her former fiance's face directed towards her, Brooke fled the scene to take refuge on the other side of the library. When she was out of everybody's line of sight, Brooke all but fell to the carpeted floor and buried her face in her hands.

(Mouth)

"And Fields makes the basket," Mouth said into the microphone before glancing over at his unofficial assistant. "And the Ravens are up by seven at the end of the first half."

"Just like old times, right, Mouth?" Rachel grinned at him.

"Only with better equipment," Mouth grinned back, then noticed that Millicent had just entered the gymnasium. She looked a little out of place, but still very beautiful. He smiled and waved her over to join him and Rachel, only to see the red-head's glowering expression. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she muttered, looking away.

He knew that the red-head to his right was lying, but couldn't say or do anything about it at the moment since Millicent sat down to his left.

"Hello, Marvin," Millie greeted, shyly tucking some hair behind an ear.

"Hey, Millie," he smiled back.

"Oh, gimme a break," Rachel muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Mouth asked.

"Nothing," the red-head shook her head, then rose from her seat beside him. "If you'll excuse me, I need some air."

"What's with her?" Millie asked when the other girl was halfway to the door outside.

"I don't know," Mouth replied, rising from his spot. "But I'm going to find out. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll watch your stuff until then."

"Thanks," he nodded, then left after Rachel. Mouth found her in short order, her stance telling him that she was aggitated. "What was that about?"

"Don't play dumb, Mouth," the red-head sighed. "You know exactly what that was about."

Mouth took a deep breath, then let out a sigh of his own.

"Look, Rach-" he began, only to find himself unable to speak because suddenly her lips were on his and everything seemed to be like it had been three years ago in Los Angeles. His whole life was planned out. He had the love of his life beside him, whose beauty made him the envy of every man and woman they encountered. And despite the fact that he was just starting out, he was happy with how his career was going. Life had been perfect, or as close as Marvin McFadden had thought that his life could ever come to thus far.

He pulled her closer against his body, revelling at the fact that just then she'd moaned into the kiss. She gripped his shirt tightly, like she wanted to tear his clothes off right there.

But as quickly as it had all began, the memories of how things ended returned to him, and before Marvin knew it, he was pushing Rachel away.

Her lust filled amber eyes met his own in confusion, stunned with how quickly their kiss had ended. "What?"

"You...this..." Mouth sputtered, tripping over his words. "This can't happen."

"What?" Rachel breathed, hurt.

"We can't keep doing this, Rach," he said, then stepped back. "It's too hard. It hurts too much."

"It...it'll be different this time," she promised, stepping toward him. She slid her hand onto his chest. "I'll try harder this time. I won't screw it up again."

"Rach..."

"I still love you," the red-head stated, meeting his gaze with earnest. "I'll always love you, Marvin."

"It's too late, Rach," Mouth breathed, relunctant. "I...I don't feel that way about you anymore. I'm sorry."

"You don't?" Rachel breathed, looking like he'd just punched her. Unable to see that expression, he shifted his gaze down to the concrete walkway. "But..."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, taking another step back. "I'm..."

"...into that frumpy girl, aren't you?" Rachel finished softly, slightly accusing.

"Her name is Millicent, and she isn't frumpy," he stated, meeting her gaze. "She's amazing, and funny, and-"

"Everything I used to be for you," the red-head finished, amber eyes brimming with tears. "Before...before I lost our baby."

"Rach..."

"I'll just be going now," Rachel sniffled, wiping the tears away. "Have a nice life, Mouth. You deserve it."

Marvin stood there dumbfounded, watching her walk away for God knows how long until he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder.

"Are you going to be alright, Marvin?" Millicent asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I don't know, Millie," he whispered, wondering if the brunette had overheard any of their conversation. "I really don't know."

**End scene.**

**Oh, the angst is thick here, like fog or something. Hope it doesn't cause the good ships, **_**Breyton**_** and **_**Routh**_**, to run aground.**

**On a completely unrelated note, I've discovered a new band called the Reverie Sound Revue. Okay, maybe new isn't the right word since they've been around circa 2003, but they're new to me. Lisa Lobsinger's voice is just ethereal. I kind of fell in love with the girl after hearing her do the vocals for Broken Social Scene's 'All to All'.**

**Anyhow, see you next update and don't forget to review after reading.**

**Thanks and see you next update!**

**Track 15 ~ 'Mood Swing' by Luscious Jackson (from 'Fever In, Fever Out')**


	16. You Oughta Know

_A/N- Okay, I meant to have this out alot sooner, but I kept re-writing it over and over again out of dissatisfaction. And while I am still not completely happy with the end result, I hope that you'll still enjoy the chapter none-the-less. Anyhow, onwards!_

**16 - You Oughta Know**

(Brooke)

"Hey, Tigger," Haley greeted, coming up from behind her friend to join on the floor. "Mind if I join you?"

"Actually, Hales, I'd much rather be alone right now," Brooke rasped, wiping away her tears.

"Too bad, because I'm not going anywhere," the shorter of the two stated, laying a hand on hers. "Whenever you're ready."

Unable to speak any further, Brooke just nodded and grasped the other woman's hand into her own. The pair sat quietly for several moments before the fashionista broke the silence.

"My mother knew about us," she whispered. "Back in New York, the entire time Peyton and I were together, Victoria knew. I was so afraid of her finding out that I was engaged to another woman that I ended up destroying the most important thing in my life, and the fucking bitch knew."

"Come here," Haley softly commanded, pulling her into a hug. Brooke began to sob quietly into her shoulder, all the anger and resentment she felt towards her mother over the years pouring out all at once. "It's going to be alright."

The two friends sat there, one taking comfort in the other's arms, when the sound of Mia playing the guitar could be heard from somewhere across the library. Soon afterward, the raven tressed songstress began singing.

_"Gone away are the golden days,  
__They're just a page in my diary.  
__So here I am, a utopian citizen.  
__I'm still convinced  
__There's no such thing as idealism."_

_"Memories, they're following me like a shadow now,  
__And I'm dreamin',  
__Cause I've already suffered the fever of disbelief."_

_"I've seen your act,  
__And I know all the facts  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were."_

_"It ain't hard to see  
__Who you are underneath  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were  
__And I wish you were here."_

_"I was true as the sky is blue,  
__I couldn't soon say the same for you.  
__So now I find denial in my eyes,  
__I'm mesmerized by the picture that's in my mind."_

_"So tell me when I'll finally see your shallow heart  
__For what it is  
__'Cause I don't want to keep on believin' in illusions."_

_"No, no, no..."_

_"Cause I've seen your act,  
__And I know all the facts.  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were."_

_"It ain't hard to see,  
__Who you are underneath.  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were,  
__I wish you were here."_

_"Sometimes I can't explain  
__And I'm so sorry that I can't  
__I'll try to concentrate  
__On your true identity."_

_"Cause I've seen your act  
__And I know all the facts  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were."_

_"It ain't hard to see  
__Who you are underneath  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were."_

_"I've seen your act  
__And I know all the facts  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were."_

_"It ain't hard to see  
__Who you are underneath  
__I'm still in love with who I wish you were."_

_"I wish you were here.  
__Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh..."_

"She's pretty good," Brooke whispered.

"Yeah, she is," Haley agreed while rubbing her friend's shoulder, then quietly added. "So, you two were engaged."

"Peyton wanted to tell everybody," Brooke began, pushing herself up to turn and look directly at the other brunette. "But I was just so-"

"Afraid of your mother's reaction if she found out," Haley finished, her expression one of complete understanding. "I get why you didn't tell anybody, Brooke."

"You're a great friend, Hales," the fashionista stated softly, looking down in shame. "I'm so sorry for not telling you."

"I think it's time you and Peyton sat down and talked," the young mother suggested. "And when I say talk, I mean really talk, Brooke. Then maybe she'll be willing to give you another chance."

"I don't deserve another chance with her," she sniffled.

Haley brought her hand under Brooke's chin, then gently forced the other woman to meet her gaze and stated in no uncertain terms. "Yes, you do."

"But-"

"Yes, you do, Brooke," she repeated, her expression telling Brooke not to argue any further. "You're obviously still in love with Peyton, and I know for a fact that girl is still in love with you, too. I can see it in her eyes. She's just afraid of getting hurt again by the one person who means more to her than anything else in the world. So it's up to you to try and win her trust back. It's not going to be easy, but personally, I believe you can do it. But the real question is, Brooke; are you up to that challenge?"

_And that's the million dollar question, isn't it?_ Brooke thought to herself, shifting her gaze to the floor before having the lyrics to Mia's song pop into her head. A moment passed by before a small smile came to her lips, her decision made. _It's time that I became the Brooke Penelope Davis who Peyton used to love instead of this pretender I've been these last few years._

When Brooke met Haley's gaze once again, her friend was smiling back at her.

"It's good to finally have you back, Tigger," Haley said.

"It's good to be back, Teacher Wife," Brooke grinned through fresh, happy tears, starting to truly feel like her old self once more.

(Lindsey)

"That song was beautiful, Mia," Lindsey complimented as the dark-haired musician finished her song. "Did you write it yourself?"

"Yeah, I did," Mia nodded, smiling shyly. "Thanks."

"I wish I had that sort of talent," she sighed, then glanced left to right before letting out another sigh. "I also wish I knew what exactly was going on here."

"Careful what you wish for," the singer cautioned in a melodic tone, lazily strumming on the guitar. "Cause you just might get it."

"Aren't you worried about Peyton?" Lindsey asked, biting back a bitchy response to the younger woman's sing-song warning. "Shouldn't you go check on her?"

"I'm actually a little afraid to go near her right now," Mia admitted, her strumming beginning to have an obvious pattern. "I have no idea how she's going to react, seeing as I'm the one who set off her argument with Brooke."

"Huh," Lindsey grunted softly, listening to the tune before muttering out some lyrics on the spot. "My name's Peyton, fake blonde Peyton. I don't have a boyfriend, because I'm a bitch."

"Hey, that's totally uncalled for," Mia protested, stopping to glare at her. "It's not Peyton's fault that this Lucas guy has the hots for her."

"No, you're right. It's not her fault," the junior editor admitted, running a hand through her hair. "I'm just frustrated with the whole uncertainty of it all. On one hand, Lucas proposed to me, which tells me that he's made his choice. On the other, he still looks at Peyton like she's some sort of goddess or muse. And to top it all off, I have no idea on what her intentions are for coming back to Tree Hill. If she didn't come back for Lucas, then why?"

Mia opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but quickly shook her head to the negative.

"What?" Lindsey asked, really getting annoyed at being the only person completely out of the loop. "Mia..."

"I haven't known Peyton all that long, but I do know her well enough to say that she has absolutely no interest in your guy," the singer assured, though Lindsey wasn't quite ready to believe her. "And that's all I'm going to say about that."

"Mia..."

"Nope, I'm not saying anymore," Mia declared, her attention directed on the guitar in her lap. "My big mouth has caused enough trouble for Peyton tonight, thank you very much."

Letting out an annoyed breath at the girl's unwillingness to divulge any further information, Lindsey leaned forward against the check out counter before deciding that maybe it was time to just ask the source of her doubts directly.

"My stupid mouth...Has got me in trouble...I said too much again," Mia began singing as the future Mrs. Lucas Scott walked away in search of wherever Peyton was hiding. It didn't take Lindsey long before she found her blonde rival alone in one of the aisles, sitting on the carpeted floor with a bottle of liquor grasped loosely in one hand.

"What do you want?" Peyton snarked, removing her eyes from the bottle to glare up at Lindsey. The curly haired blonde was clearly aggitated.

"Where'd you get that from?" Lindsey asked, pointing to the alcohol.

"From the old librarian's secret stash," she answered, returning her attention back to the whiskey. "Always knew the hag was a booze hound."

"Have you drinken any of that?" Lindsey inquired, still standing.

"No, but I'm sorely tempted to right now," Peyton said, tipping the bottle back and forth to watch the liquid within swish around. "Which is bad considering I'm a recovering addict."

"Hand it over," she commanded, which Peyton did in surprisingly quick order. The two sat in an awkward quiet before Lindsey finally broke it. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I'm not after Lucas," the other blonde said flatly.

"Well, that's a relief to hear, but how do I know for sure that you won't change your mind?" Lindsey pressed.

"Did you know that this is almost the exact same spot where Lucas found me bleeding all over the place five years ago?" Peyton asked, running her hand over the carpet between them.

She took a breath, suddenly remembering that moment from her fiance's novel. "Really?"

"Yeah, it is," Peyton nodded before finally shifting her emerald gaze toward Lindsey. "It was in this very spot that I, bleeding half to death and frightened that I'd never see Brooke again, came out to him."

"What?" Lindsey swallowed, unsure if she'd heard her rival right.

"Don't get me wrong, Lindsey," the blonde continued, her expression telling Lindsey that she was being completely honest. "Despite all the assorted chaos he's caused recently, I love Lucas, but I'm not in love with him. He saved my life that day, and for that I'll always be grateful to him, but Lucas and I have absolutely no chance of happening since he's not my type. Wrong gender."

Her mouth was suddenly dry and it was hard to speak through the shock, but she managed to squeak out. "Are you telling me that you're...?"

"Gay?" Peyton finished, nodding in confirmation. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you."

"Thought as much," Lindsey muttered before unscrewing the cap from the whiskey bottle and taking a long, hard swig from it, only to start coughing when some of it went down the wrong pipe.

"Whoa, easy," the blonde warned, patting her back.

Lindsey batted her hand away, while shaking her head. She was unsure if the tears that were stinging her eyes were caused by her choking on the alcohol, or the terrible sense of betrayal at Lucas' deceit.

"I don't know why he'd kept this from me," Lindsey stated after a while, her voice hitching slightly. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't really know," Peyton said. "To protect his fragile male ego, maybe?"

"Men and their stupid egos," the editor muttered, placing a hand to her forehead. When her (former) rival placed a comforting hand onto her shoulder, Lindsey didn't brush that hand away like before. Instead, she accepted for what it was. One person offering support to another in a time of need. _I completely misjudged Peyton. It's not her fault that Lucas is in love with her. Oh, God, Mia was right! I really didn't want to know this!_

"I can't believe this is happening," Lindsey rasped, looking over at the other woman to meet her emerald gaze. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Honestly, Lindsey, because I have more than enough of my own drama to deal with right now," Peyton sighed, her exhaustion apparent. "I don't need or want someone else's crap burdening me. It's already becoming too much as it is."

"All this time I wasted being suspicious of you, angry with you," she said in a near growl, feeling her blood rising. "When I really should've been..."

"Don't let that door close!" Mia shouted, cutting their conversation suddenly short.

Lindsey shared a surprised look with Peyton before both women jumped up to rush towards the singer's position.

(Mia)

"Hey," an unfamiliar voice greeted, bringing Mia's attention immediately towards its source. "Did somebody here order a pizza?"

"Don't let that door close!" Mia cried, jumping up from her seat so suddenly that the guitar fell loudly to the floor. The startled delivery guy's hand snapped to catch the door before it could shut just as the dark haired girl reached him. "Oh, thank you so much! You have no idea how long we've been stuck in here!"

"Is that the pizza guy?" Haley asked, coming around the corner with Brooke on her heels.

The pizza delivery guy stared at the young woman in surprise. "Haley?"

"Tim?" Haley asked, surprised.

"Dim?" Brooke piped up. "Dim's here?"

"Whoa, Brooke's here, too?" Tim cried, letting go of the door. Mia snapped forward, catching it before it could slam shut.

"Almost got us stranded there, Dim," the singer grumbled, shooting a glare his way.

"Whose this sassy little chick?" Tim hiked a thumb at Mia, frowning in confusuion. "Was she in our class, too?"

"Holy crap," Peyton cried, showing up along side Lindsey. "Timmy Smith!"

_Great, now we're being held up by an impromptu class reunion,_ Mia thought, rolling her eyes. _At this rate, Antwon's going to think I stood him up!_

"I should've known Peyton would be here, too," Tim smirked, leering between the former lovers. "You girls still..."

"Oh, God," Brooke and Peyton groaned at the same time, illiciting giggles from Haley, Mia and, surprisingly, Lindsey.

Tim shot an inquistive look at the other newcomer. "And who are you?"

"Lindsey Strauss," she introduced herself.

"Soon to be Scott," Brooke added.

"That remains to be seen," Lindsey said without emotion, causing Brooke and Haley to gasp in shock.

"And that's our cue to leave," Peyton declared before Haley or Brooke could recover to question this turn of events. She quickly rushed past Tim and Mia, grabbing the latter by the wrist along their way out of the library.

"Slow down, Peyton," Mia cried, struggling to keep pace with the blonde. "You're hurting my wrist!"

"Can't slow down," the blonde replied, not looking back. "Or Haley is going to catch up and kill me!"

"Well, I'm going to kill you, if you don't stop right now," the singer retorted, wrestling out of her friend's grasp. Mia rubbed her wrist, glaring at the blonde in the process. "Damn, that hurts!"

"Haley is very protective of Lucas, who is her oldest friend," she explained, looking worried. "Hence, the running."

"Our jackets are still in there," Mia reminded.

"Hey, guys," Brooke cried suddenly from down the hall, carrying the pair's aforementioned coats under her arm. "Wait up!"

"Huh, Brooke to the rescue," the singer scoffed in amusement, bringing an eyeroll from Peyton.

"You forgot these," the brunette informed.

"Thanks," Peyton replied, taking her coat from her ex-girlfriend.

"Yeah, thanks, Brooke," Mia added, glancing between the two former lovers. _Yeah, this isn't awkward at all._

"It's no problem," Brooke said, handing the songstress her jacket. "Could you give us some privacy, Mia?"

"Sure," Mia replied, only to have Peyton to grab her wrist again. She glanced up and noticed the panicked expression on her friend's face. "Or not."

"This won't take long," the brunette begged. "Please?"

"Just say what you have to say, Brooke," the blonde said, her hand still grasping Mia's wrist. "We've already missed most, if not all of the game and we kind of promised Skillz that we'd cheer him on tonight."

The fashionista nodded as if in understanding, not fighting the blonde's obvious excuse to escape. "I just wanted to apologize for what I said back in the library. I was completely out of line."

"I'm sorry for slapping you," Peyton returned. "I shouldn't have done that. So, um...sorry."

"Don't be, because I completely deserved it," Brooke assured. "But like I said, at least you knew your moms loved you. I wish my mom loved me half as much as one of yours did. I didn't mean for it to come out so callously though."

"Still, I shouldn't have slapped you," the blonde repeated, then changed the subject. "So, how mad is Haley at me right now?"

"Lindsey's probably explaining everything to her right now," the brunette informed. "They were talking when I left the library." She smiled at Peyton. "Haley may be angry because of those blinders she wears when it comes to Lucas, but she'll come around eventually."

"I hope so," Mia's producer sighed.

"Speaking of, I should get back there and pay for that pizza. I told Tim that I was getting the money from you," Brooke smirked, then nodded at Mia. "It was nice meeting you. Good night, you two."

"See ya," Mia waved with her free hand, watching the fashionista walk away. She was halfway down the hall before Peyton stopped her.

"Brooke?"

"Yeah?" Brooke glanced back.

The blonde smiled, "You deserve a better mother than Victoria."

"And you deserve to have both of your moms back in your life," her ex-fiance returned.

"Looks like we're both screwed over in that department, huh?" Peyton chuckled.

"I suppose we are," Brooke agreed with an amused scoff.

"See you around, B Davis."

"See you around, P Sawyer."

"You two are so getting back together," Mia declared once Brooke was out of earshot.

"Shut up, or I'll tell Skillz that you hooked up with Tim," Peyton threatened.

"The pizza dude? Ungh, that's gross," the singer grimaced.

"Let's get our butts to the gym before Skillz thinks we stood him up," the blonde suggested, laughing at her friend. The pair of friends walked towards their destination in an amiable silence until Mia began to sing.

"My name's Peyton, fake blonde Peyton," the young singer intoned, remembering Lindsey's tune from earlier. "I don't have a boyfriend, 'cause I'm a dyke."

Peyton stopped dead in her tracks, making Mia think that maybe she'd gone too far by changing that last word. It was the first time that she'd used that word around the blonde. Or ever, for that matter. A moment passed before the blonde began laughing and gave the other girl a playful shove. "You are such a little shit!"

Mia laughed, quietly relieved at her friend's response, then followed after Peyton as they continued towards the gymnasium. The game looked to have ended some time ago, with the Ravens having won 79 to 74, according to the scoreboard.

"Crap, we missed it," Mia whined, stating the obvious. "Stupid broken library doors."

"Finally decided to show up, huh?" Skillz said from behind them.

"We got trapped in the library," Peyton explained, then turned to Mia. "I'll wait for you in the car. Don't take too long. See you later, Skillz."

"Later, P," he returned, not taking his gaze off Mia. "Stuck in the library? That fo' real?"

"The doors were broken, and we got stuck, then there was all this drama," the musician apologized at a near babble. "But I'm here now. Better late than never, right?"

"Girl, it's lucky that yo' so cute, 'cause most guys woulda left ahready," the assistant basketball coach smirked, quirking his head back cockily. "So how you gonna make this up to me?"

"Pretty sure of yourself, Antwon," she rolled her eyes in mock disgust, then started towards the door to leave. "Well, I'm not playing this game. I'm going home."

"Now, wait a min-" Skillz began, reaching out to grab her elbow.

His hand missed as Mia spun around and stepped forward, capturing his lips with her own. The young black man let out a muffled cry of surprise, but soon followed her lead and kissed Mia back, wrapping an arm around the musician.

"That one was free, because I stood you up," she breathed after they seperated, grinning at his expression. "You will have to earn the next one though, Antwon."

"Tuesday night, dinner, seven o'clock," he said, returning the grin.

"Make it eight o'clock and you have yourself a deal, mister," Mia agreed, turning to leave for real this time. "Good night!"

"Good night," Skillz said, then happily muttered under his breath. "Damn!"

Mia giggled to herself on the way to the Comet, feeling on top of the world as she slipped into the front seat beside Peyton.

"You're grinning like an idiot," the blonde observed teasingly, a knowing expression on her face. "Did you do something slutty?"

"Just drive us home," Mia ordered, still grinning.

"As you wish," Peyton chuckled, starting the engine.

The drive home was amiable with Mia eventually informing Peyton of her coming date on Tuesday, which resulted in relentless teasing from the blonde woman until they finally reached the house.

"So, eight o'clock Tuesday, huh?" Peyton asked on their way up the cobbled walkway. "Have you thought on what you're going to wear?"

"Uh, no, I haven't," Mia admitted, suddenly a little worried since her wardrobe was severely limited. "Oh, man."

"Don't worry, you can just borrow something off me or Rachel before then," her friend offered with a shrug, opening the door and allowing the singer enter first.

"Speaking of Big Red, what do you suppose happened to..." Mia began, only to come to a dead stop at the sight before her.

The blonde stepped forward past the stunned singer. "Rachel? What happened?"

"I think I'm ready for that talk now, Sawyer," the red-head sniffled, sitting on the couch in pajamas and a tub of ice cream in her lap.

"Oh, honey," Peyton whispered, rushing over to console her devestated best friend.

**End scene.**

**Thanks for reading and don't forget to review.**

**Track 16 ~ 'You Oughta Know' by Alanis Morrisette (from 'Jagged Little Pill')**


	17. Weight

_AN- Sorry about the wait on this chapter, people, but I got distracted by something shiny. Anyhow, you'll notice that I shift the focus from Breyton a little this chapter onto the other couples, though I will be making up for that later on. It's also got a bit of a filler feeling to it, but I hope you guys still enjoy it._

_Dedicated to __**xFauxdilocksx**__, who just wouldn't stop pestering me for an update! Love you, buddy!_

**17 - Weight**

(Peyton)

It had been almost a half hour after Peyton and Mia had returned home that Rachel had yet to speak, despite her earlier statement of being ready to do so. Instead the broken red-head spent the time since then and now just clinging to Peyton, sobbing softly while Mia sat on the nearby armchair and quietly watched in worried confusion.

"I'm thirsty," Mia announced out of nowhere, breaking the near silence. "Either of you want anything from the kitchen?"

Peyton glanced up at the younger woman, noting her lost expression and knew that Mia was just trying to figure out how to deal. The blonde knew that Mia had only seen the fun side of Rachel, so this new aspect of their friend must be throwing her for a complete loop. "Some bottled waters would be great."

"I'll take these as well," the singer said, scooping up the spoons and now half empty carton of melting ice cream. "Be right back."

"I lost him again, Peyton," Rachel stated just as Mia had left the room, surprising her best friend. "Just when I thought I was getting Mouth back, I find out that he's moved on."

"You can't know that for sure, sweetie," Peyton assured.

"He's infatuated with Brooke's assistant," the red-head interjected, sitting up to face the other girl. "That Millicence girl."

"You mean, Millicent," Peyton corrected, remembering the girl from the grand opening a few weeks ago. "Right?"

"Whatever her name is," Rachel muttered, looking down. "The fact of the matter is that he's totally into her, and I'm left on the outside looking in."

"Millicent is a nice girl and all, but she's got nothing on you," she smiled, brushing back copper strands out of her friend's face. "You're Rachel Virginia Gattina, international supermodel, for God's sake!"

"That may be true, but Millicent can give Marvin something very important that I can't," the usually fierce girl said in a small voice, refusing to glance up.

"And what's that?" Peyton asked, gently forcing Rachel to look her in the eye. "Rachel?"

"Children," she rasped, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. "I can't have kids, Peyton."

"Oh, Rachel," the blonde whispered before wrapping her arms tightly around the red-head, forcing back her own tears in the process. "I'm so sorry."

"Is there else anything I can do?" Mia timidly asked a moment later, sounding like she was barely keeping her own emotions in check as well. She placed two bottles of water on the coffee table, then stood there with that same lost expression from earlier on her face.

"No, this is good, thanks," Peyton said, smiling up softly at the musician from her seat on the couch with Rachel. "Why don't you go to sleep, Mia? We have a busy day tomorrow, remember?"

"Yeah, sure, you betchya," a very uncomfortable looking Mia nodded, relief crossing her features at being politely dismissed by the blonde. "Good night, guys."

"Good night, Mia," Peyton replied softly, still holding onto her broken best friend. _Mia shouldn't have to deal with this, not when she was so excited about her date with Skillz on Tuesday._

The two best friends sat there for a while before Peyton felt herself doze off, slumping back into the couch with Rachel still clinging to her like a life perserver. When she woke up a few hours later, the record producer was a little surprised to find that Mia had returned and was now curled up and asleep across from them on the love seat. Rachel on the other hand had released her tight hold on her best friend and now lay sprawled over Peyton like a little kid would. It kind of reminded the blonde of how she and Brooke would fall asleep during their movie nights, back when things weren't so damned complicated between them.

Peyton let out a quiet sigh then gazed up at the ceiling, caressing the bronzen hair of her troubled best friend, who was currently using the blonde's lap as a pillow. _Guess it's my turn to be the strong one now. I really hope I'm up to it, because I owe Rachel so damned much. I'd probably be dead if it wasn't for her, so the least I can do is be here for her._

"Peyton?" Rachel croaked. "You awake?"

"I'm right here, Rachel," the blonde whispered back, grasping her friend's hand.

She heard Rachel take a deep breath before the red-head simply said, "Thank you."

"Anytime," Peyton promised.

(Nathan)

"You sure you're up for this, Nate?" Skillz asked, bouncing the basketball. "I don't want Hales gettin' in my face 'cause I let you push yo back too hard."

"I'm up for this, Skillz," Nathan assured, taking a defensive stance between his friend and the net. "Now let's play already."

"You su-"

"Skillz!" Nathan cut in, annoyed with all of this delay on Skillz's part. "Would you just dribble the damn ball already?"

"Ah-ight then," Skillz grinned, doing as his friend demanded. "But don't say I didn't warn you, dawg."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered before they began their first game of one-on-one since Nathan's back injury. They got a good forty minutes under their belt until Nathan called it quits, lasting almost twice as long than he had expected. The pair made their way to the bleachers where they kept their bags, both of them pulling water bottles out and taking swigs to rehydrate themselves. Nathan plopped down onto the wood, then took another swig of water. He grinned up at Skillz, who was wearing a knowing expression. And despite the fact that he would be feeling this workout later on at home, Nathan was glad he pushed himself as hard as he had. "Well, that was fun."

"You been missin' this, haven't ya?" Skillz laughed, taking the seat next to him.

"Like a crack whore misses her pipe," he stated.

Skillz shook his shaved head, palming his forehead. "That statement's just all sorts of wrong."

"Whatever," Nathan shrugged, rising from his seat. He quickly gathered up his bag, then pointed to his and Haley's black SUV. "Want to come over for dinner?"

"Nah, dawg," Skillz politely refused, having grabbed his things as well. "I gotta get home and decide where I'm takin' Mia Tuesday night."

Nathan raised his eyebrows, not recognizing the name. "Who?"

"You don't know Mia?"

"Nope."

"That's not that surprising, 'cause I just met her a few days ago myself," his friend nodded, scratching his chin. "Anyhow, she's living wit' Goldilocks and Rusty up at their place. In fact, you remember when you called me 'bout Luke's engagement?" Nathan nodded. "Well, just after that was when I met her."

"Is she hot?" Nathan smirked, amused by how taken Skillz seemed to be with this Mia girl, and they hadn't even gone on their first date yet.

"Hey, don't be bustin' my balls, Nate," Antwon retorted knowingly. "Not all of us have a beautiful wife AND a hot nanny to go home to every night."

"Sorry, sorry," he said, lifting his hands up in apology. "But if it's any consolation, the whole beautiful wife and hot nanny thing isn't all what it's cracked up to be."

Skillz shot him a quizzical expression. "Really now?"

"Yeah, really," Nathan nodded. "Haley's always super busy with teaching during the day and often ends up over at Clothes Over Bros to help Brooke out with the store, so she's not there alot, which leaves Carrie taking care of Jamie until she gets back. And to be honest, I'm not comfortable being alone with that girl if Hales isn't around or Jamie is down for his nap."

Skillz's facial expression became dark, his protective streak for his oldest friend showing itself. "You ain't feelin' a bit tempt-"

"No, not even a little," he interupted, realizing where this was leading. "I just don't like the way she looks at me, like I'm a porter house steak that she wants to eat whole. And I don't want to unintentionally lead her on, so I stay away as much as I can."

"You really should talk to Hales 'bout this, Nate," Skillz advised.

"I know, but Carrie's just so good with Jamie, and Haley likes her," he groaned, looking skyward. "And I honestly don't want to rock the boat because of all the crap I pulled after hurting my back. I almost lost my family, man."

"You want me to set her up with Junk or Fergie?" Skillz joked.

"Wouldn't hurt to try," Nathan chuckled, though it was a little forced.

Skillz scratched his chin again, then headed towards his own parked vehicle before coming to a stop. He turned and gave Nate his trademark grin. "You know what? I've changed my mind on that dinner invite. I'll be by after I go home and have a quick shower."

"You just don't want to cook for yourself," he laughed, following after his friend.

"Damn straight I don't," Skillz agreed with a laugh of his own. "See you in thirty."

"See you in thirty," Nathan parroted, then entered the black SUV and pulled out his cellphone to text Haley. When he finished doing that, Nathan started the engine and began the drive home.

_Huh, doesn't look like anybody's gotten back yet,_ Nathan noted as he pulled into the driveway. After shutting off the engine and heading inside, he decided to run upstairs to take a quick shower before everybody else arrived home for dinner. His thoughts began to wander to his conversation with Skillz, and he had just decided to take his friend's advice on speaking with Haley about his concerns when the sound of the shower caused Nathan to freeze, shampoo still in his hair at the moment. _Please be my wife, or else I'm so screwed!_

"Need some help with your back?" Haley husked, her hands sliding up his back and along his shoulders.

_Oh, thank God!_ Nathan thought, letting out the tense breath he'd been holding. He washed the shampoo from his hair, then turned to find his wife giving him a concerned look.

"You okay, Nate?"

"I'm fine," he nodded, bending down to place a kiss on her forehead. "You just surprised me, Hales."

"What? Did you think I was Carrie, or something?" Haley joked, barely visible because of the steam.

"Um..."

"Nathan," his wife practically growled. "That's not funny."

"No, it's not," he agreed, then gestured towards the shower door. "But there is something important we need to talk about, and I'd rather we do that with clothes on, babe."

(Millicent)

"Yes, Brooke, everything is under control," Millicent said, trying to assure her boss for the thousandth time that the shop wouldn't fall apart without her being there. "Haley and I can totally handle it, so you really have to stop fretting about this and prepare for your meeting with the board of directors after you land."

"But..."

"Bye, boss," Millie intoned, hanging up the phone. She glanced around at the empty boutique and began to get bored with their lack of business, when the bells above the door jiggled, annoucing a customer's arrival. Millicent looked up to find that it wasn't a client, but in fact somebody who she'd been thinking about alot lately.

"Hello, Millicent," Marvin greeted with a little grin.

"Hello, Marvin," she smiled shyly. "What brings you here?"

"Um, I know this is a little bit of short notice," he began, sounding a little anxious. "But I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Millicent was on the verge of readily accepting his invite, but became hesitant at the memory of his conversation with that Rachel girl at the basketball game. Sure, she only caught the end of their talk, but it was definitely a serious conversation between two people with some obvious history. And even though Millicent didn't exactly like the red-head, her heart went out to the girl. Rachel had just looked so shattered before walking away.

"Okay, I guess that's a no," Marvin said, slightly dejected. "So, I'll jus-"

"I'm not done until seven o'clock," Millie interjected, shoving her doubts aside because she really did like this boy. "Pick me up at Brooke's at eight."

"Eight o'clock?" Mouth smiled, causing the butterflies residing in her stomach flutter like crazy. "Okay, see you then, Millicent."

"See you then, Marvin," she smiled, watching the blonde man practically skip happily out of the store. It wasn't until a good five minutes had passed by that those pesky doubts from earlier returned to plague the young assistant. _Damn, I hope this isn't a mistake._

**End scene.**

**If reviews are love, then I demand that you love me!**

**Track 17 ~ 'Weight' by Sarah Slean (from 'Night Bugs')**


	18. No Girl So Sweet

_A/N- It may not seem like it, but there is a method to my madness. Reassured that Breyton will return to the forefront soon. Just be patient, okay? Thanks!_

**18 - No Girl So Sweet**

(Brooke)

_This seriously couldn't come at a worse time,_ Brooke fumed, not at all looking forward to the coming meeting with her company's board of directors. Although she'd been delaying this meeting for as long as possible, Brooke knew that it was inevitable since firing her mother almost two weeks ago. _Fucking Victoria Davis! I should be in Tree Hill, trying to get Peyton back, but instead I'm here in the city where I lost her! Even when she's no longer working for me, Victoria is still being a pain in my ass!_

"We're almost there, Miss Davis," Myron, her limo driver informed her.

Brooke nodded, "Thanks."

The fashionista returned to gazing out the window at the people on the street, her mind wandering back to when she and Peyton had first come here after graduation. They were both so excited to be living in New York with each other, excited for what their futures would bring them. They held hands and stole kisses in public those first few months together in Manhatten, before Victoria decided to become actively involved with her daughter's life.

Brooke shook her head, refusing to fall prey to self pity. Better to think of the happier times, like that one glorious day at Coney Island.

_'Come on, P,' Brooke whined, practically dragging her girlfriend towards the ferris wheel. 'I know you hate heights, but please come with me. Don't make me be that loser who goes on rides by themselves!'_

_'Fine, but I'm making a face the entire time,' the blonde relented, finally allowing herself to be lead rather than dragged towards the amusement ride._

The brunette smiled at the memory. Usually she couldn't bear to remember that day, but this time was different. Instead of stirring up the hurt like all the other times, it served to remind her that Peyton had once apon time loved her more than anything else in the world and vise-versa. It gave her hope that one day they'd have that back.

_'Look at how small everybody looks,' Brooke cried excitedly._

_'You're nuts if you think I'm opening my eyes, Brooke,' Peyton whispered, gripping the bar with knuckles white._

_'Oh, baby, you seriously need to lighten up,' she cooed, leaning against the blonde and resting her head on Peyton's shoulder. 'The view is amazing, and you're missing it, you big wuss.'_

_'Shut up,' her girlfriend muttered, eyes still closed._

_Brooke smiled at the blonde, deciding now was the perfect moment. Reaching into the pocket of her denim jacket, the brunette curled her fingers around the felt covered box and took a deep breath before speaking. 'If you don't open your eyes, Peyton, you'll miss the reason why I dragged you up here.'_

_'What?' Peyton asked, only to gasp loudly at the object Brooke was holding out in front of her. She gazed at the brunette in surprise, her green eyes looking like they were about to pop out of her head. 'What?'_

_'I love you, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer,' Brooke said, her voice quivering a little from nervousness. 'Will you marry me?'_

_'Yes,' Peyton cried, tears of joy cascading down her cheeks. 'Yes, of course, I'll marry you!'_

"Miss Davis? Is everything alright?" Myron inquired, concern etched on his face.

"Everything's fine, Myron," a slightly embarrassed Brooke assured, wiping the tears away quickly with the back of her hand. "Everything's fine."

"We're there, Miss Davis," he said, his earlier concerned expression now one of skepticism.

"So you gonna open my door or not, Myron?" Brooke playfully rebuked her driver.

"Right away, Miss Davis," he nodded before exitting the vehicle, opening the door for her a moment later. He held his hand out for Brooke, assisting her out of the limo.

"Thank you, Myron," she smiled graciously, releasing his hand.

_'Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer-Davis,' the flaxen haired goddess cooed, her hand elevated up so she could admire the beautiful engagement ring. 'Sounds perfect, doesn't it?'_

_'Yes, it does,' Brooke agreed, cuddling up against her very naked fiance. The two girls immediately come home after she'd proposed to the blonde, where Peyton had all but tore the clothes from Brooke's body to make love to her._

_'You know what sounds even better?' Peyton whispered huskily, rolling back on top of the brunette and placing buttterfly kisses all along Brooke's throat and collarbone._

_The up-and-coming fashion designer gasped at her fiance's actions, barely managing to get out a throaty whisper. 'What's that, baby?'_

_'Brooke Penelope Davis-Sawyer,' Peyton whispered between kisses, her hand sliding down Brooke's body until those magnificent long fingers were buried inside the brunette's tight warmth. 'I love you.'_

_'I love you, too,' Brooke moaned, back arching at her fiance once again bringing her to orgasm. 'I love you so fucking much!'_

When the elevator doors opened, Brooke immediately headed towards the conference room where her board members would be waiting on her. She more or less ignored the few people who tried to greet her, not wanting to prolong this any longer than necessary. The quicker she was done here, the quicker Brooke could leave New York and get back to Tree Hill. Back to living her life, and most importantly, back to once more trying to win the love and trust of Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer.

(Haley)

"Hey, Lindsey, sorry I'm late," Haley apologized.

"It's fine," Lindsey smiled up from her seat. "I just got here myself."

"I see that your friend has finally arrived," a waitress remarked casually, arriving at their table with a pair if menus. "Care to order some drinks now?"

Haley shot a knowing look at the other woman, who sheepishly looked away. "Just got here, huh?"

"I'll have an iced tea, please," Lindsey said, ignoring her smirking friend.

"Same here, thanks," Haley added with a slight chuckle, taking the chair across from the blonde. "Not that I'm unappreciative of the free lunch, Lindsey, but what do I owe the pleasure of this invite?"

"I need some advice," the other girl said, obviously anxious.

"You haven't confronted Lucas yet, have you?" Haley quizzed, already having suspected that this would be the case.

"I have no idea how I'm supposed to do that, Haley," the faux blonde sighed, glancing away once again. "The best I've come up with is buying the first season of 'the L Word', play it constantly, and hope that Lucas will eventually get the hint and man up."

"Or you could try the direct route," the young woman suggested, wondering if she should be so amused by Lindsey's plan.

"Yeah, and risk losing him," she said lowly, eyes cast downward.

"Lindsey..."

"Is it wrong that I still love him so damn much, even after he's been lying to me for such a long time?" Lindsey asked, looking up with her blue eyes shimmering.

"No, it's not wrong that you still love him, but you really have to confront Lucas about this," Haley said. "Otherwise he's going to keep avoiding it. Luke is my best and oldest friend and I love the guy to bits, but even I can get pretty annoyed with how he treats people sometimes. Intentional or not, his avoidance tactics seem to cause more problems for him than anything else." She reached over and grasped the blonde girl's hand. "I'm here for you though, if things go bad, okay?"

"Thank you, Haley," Lindsey smiled graciously. "That means alot."

"Now, let's grab something to eat, because I'm starved," she remarked, releasing her hold on Lindsey's hand in order to pick up the menu. "I'm thinking something with chicken in it."

"The chicken caesar here is really good," her dining companion said, looking down at her own menu. "I'll probably end up getting that."

After the waitress returned with their drinks, took their orders and left again, the conversation shifted to lighter fare. They spoke about Haley's teaching job and how much she loved it, while Lindsey told her about a manuscript that one of her collegues had sent her a few days ago.

"It's pretty good, so I'm going to tell John to sign the guy right away," Lindsey finished, stabbing her fork into the caeser salad she'd ordered. "You know, before some other publishing firm goes and scoops him up."

"What do you think of Carrie?" Haley asked suddenly.

"Carrie?" Lindsey looked at her strangely, her expression telling the young mother that she wasn't really expecting the question. "You mean, you're nanny, Carrie?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"I've only met her a couple of times, but the girl seemed nice enough," Lindsey answered, curious. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Haley evaded, looking away.

"Haley..."

"It's ricidulous, but Nathan seems to think that she has a crush on hi-," she began, then stopped at the other woman's little smirk. "What?"

"You're cute when you're jealous, you know that?" Lindsey teased.

"Oh, shut up," Haley scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously though, Haley, you have nothing to worry about with Nathan," the bottle blonde assured. "Even if Carrie does have a crush on him, your husband loves you and Jamie far too much to risk losing you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have brought it up, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she admitted, feeling stupid for doubting her husband.

"With that being said," her best friend's fiance continued with a smile. "If the girl does try anything with your hubby, just call me up and we'll go snap that twig in half."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Haley laughed, happy to have found a friend in this girl sitting across from her. _I swear if Lucas screws things up with you, Lindsey, I may have to kick his ass!_

(Skillz)

_Okay, here we go,_ Skillz thought, running a hand nervously over his bald head then pressed the doorbell. He only had to wait half a minute or so before the door swung open, revealing a haggard looking Rachel standing there.

"Whoa," a shocked Skillz breathed.

"Nice to see you, too, Antwon," the red-head snorted, then turned away and shouted up the stairs. "Hey, Mia, that meat you ordered is here!"

"Classy," he chuckled.

"Whatever," she grumbled, walking into the living room to leave Skillz standing alone in the foyer.

"Hey, you're early," Peyton said, bounding the steps toward him. "Mia's still getting ready, so it may be a little while."

"That's coo', P," Skillz replied, then hiked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction their copper maned friend had gone. "What's up with, Red?"

"Can't say," the blonde stated.

Skillz frowned, "Hey, now, we're all friends here, ain't we?"

"Yes, but I still can't tell you," Peyton insisted, shooting him a look that was part plea and part warning for him to drop the subject.

"Okay, all set," Mia declared, bringing their attention to the top of the stairs where the raven haired cutie stood looking even more gorgeous than usual. In her strapless red cocktail dress with matching pumps and bag, not to mention the way her hair was styled, the girl was just simply breathtaking to behold.

"Wow," Skillz muttered under his breath, watching Mia practically drift down to join him and Peyton at the front door. "You lookin' fine, girl."

"Why thank you, Mr. Taylor," she grinned, doing a curtsy.

"You are such a dork," Peyton laughed.

"Shut it, lesbitron," Mia retorted, sticking her tongue out at the blonde.

"Shall we?" Skillz asked, offering his arm to hold.

A smiling Mia was about to step forward and take his arm, but the tall slim blonde stepped between them and narrowed her jade eyes at her dark skinned friend.

"Okay, here are some ground rules," Peyton said in a serious tone.

"Oh, God," the brunette groaned, pushing her aside. "Would you cut it out?"

"Fine, ruin my fun," she said with a laugh, moving away from the pair. "Enjoy yourselves, you two!"

"Don't wait up," Mia grinned, linking arms with her date. The two exitted the house towards Skillz vehicle, to which Skillz opened the door for her. They were on the road moments later when the singer piped up. "So, where you taking me, mister?"

"You'll see," he grinned.

"Okay, but just for your information," Mia said, gifting him with a sweet smile. "I don't put out unless I get a free meal out of the deal."

"Good to know," Skillz laughed, completely enchanted by the young woman seated next to him.

**End scene.**

**R&R please!**

**Track 18 ~ 'No Girl So Sweet' by 'PJ Harvey' (from 'Is This Desire?')**


	19. My Stupid Mouth

_A/N- I don't know if you can call this filler or not, but it does set up the next two chapters exactly the way I want. Could've probably did a better job on the syntax and grammar, but I really wanna get to the next chapters. Why? Can't tell you just yet. As Professor River Song (of 'Doctor Who') would say, 'Spoilers.'_

**19 - My Stupid Mouth**

(Mia)

"So what do you have in store for me next, Antwon?" Mia smiled, strolling beside her date along the prominade.

"Lil' bit o' this, a lil' bit o' that," Skillz grinned, evading the question.

"Ooh, mystery," the singer cooed as she stepped closer to the assistant coach of the Ravens, grabbing his arm to pull herself against him while they walked. "I'm having a great night so far."

"Well, I aim to please," he chuckled.

"You know what would really please me?" Mia asked, coming to a stop. She gazed up at his brown eyes, the pair of them now face to face.

Skillz's eyebrows raised a little, his curiosity piqued. "Hmm?"

"Peyton booked me a gig at Tric on Saturday night, opening for some band on tour from Canada," she smiled, lifting her arms to rest over his shoulders. "And I was wondering if you'd be interested in being my own personal groupie?"

"That depends, missy," he said lowly, their faces drawing closer to one other's for a kiss.

"On what?" Mia whispered, inching nearer.

"On what sorta perks I get," Skillz whispered. "If ah'm gonna sacrifice my intregrity, I'd like to know what ah'm gettin' in return, ah-ight?"

"You get me," she husked before finally closing the remaining gap to hungrily kiss him, moaning softly as his tongue danced with her own.

"Whoa, get a room, you two," somebody commented, causing them to seperate.

"Shush, you," a woman chided.

Mia could feel herself blushing fiercely at the couple who'd interupted their impromptu make out session, not believing how easily it was for the musician to forget herself when she was in Antwon's company. _How embarrassing!_

"Oh, hey, Mouth," Skillz greeted, grinning sheepishly at this familiar blonde man standing in front of them. "What up, dawg?"

_Mouth? Why does that ring a bell?_ Mia wondered with a frown, only to suddenly remember a full second later. This was the guy from the Ravens season opener, the guy who hurt Rachel. She looked at the girl standing beside Mouth, concluding that this must be Millicent. Mia snorted, not at all impressed with the girl. _He chose you over Rachel? The guy must be completely near-sighted!_

"Something wrong, Mia?" Skillz asked, probably having heard her snort.

"No, nothing's wrong, Antwon," she assured while coldly glaring at Millicent, revelling at how the girl was beginning to shift uncomfortably under her wintery gaze. "Nothing at all."

"Marvin, we'll be late for the movie," Millicent said, obviously wanting to avoid a conflict.

"Yeah, and we wouldn't want that now would we, _Millicent_?" Mia scoffed under her breath, realizing how catty she sounded and really not caring.

Mouth and Skillz looked confused at the interaction between their dates.

Millicent grabbed the blonde man by his sleeve. "Marvin."

"Um, okay," Mouth said, still confused. "See you back home, Skillz."

"Yeah, see ya then, Marv," Skillz replied before turning to his date, a confounded expression on his face. "Mind tellin' me what that was 'bout?"

"I don't like him," the singer stated, still glaring at the departing couple. "Or his girlfriend, for that matter."

"You don't even know them," he protested.

"I know them well enough," Mia retorted, which brought a deep breath from Skillz. She glanced at him, furrowing her brow. "What?"

"Nothing," he sighed, running a hand over his head.

"Antwon," she began, starting to regret her behavior. "Look, I'm sor-"

"I'm not feelin' that great all of a sudden, Mia," Skillz interjected, turning to leave. "So why don't we call it a night and I'll drive ya home, ah-ight?"

"Alright," Mia whispered, watching him walk away for a moment before following him back in the direction of where his car was parked. The drive home was silent, serving to remind the young musician of just how badly she'd screwed up. And even though she wanted to apologize, Mia couldn't bring herself to do so. She was too ashamed of herself. When they pulled up into the driveway moments later, Mia finally worked up the courage to fill the awkward silence. "I'm sorry."

"It's ah-ight," he said, refusing to look at her.

"Are you still coming to my gig Saturday?" Mia asked timidly.

"Yeah," Skillz nodded, though his answer lacked any conviction. "I'll be there."

"Okay, goodnight," she whispered, exitting his car before Skillz could say it in return. Mia all but ran into the house without looking back, leaning against the door after shutting it behind herself. She stared up at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh of regret. _Well, that was a shitty end to an otherwise perfect first date, now wasn't it?_

(Brooke)

"Okay, they're ready for you, Miss Davis," Calliope informed her brooding boss, who was going over the prepared statement once again.

"Thanks, I'll be right there, Calliope," Brooke smiled politely at her temporary assistant, rising from her chair. The fashion icon took a steadying breath, then made her way into the press room where several reporters were waiting on her arrival.

"Good evening, respected members of the press," a surprisingly calm and composed Calliope said into the microphone. "First off, there will be no questions after Miss Davis speaks, so please refrain from asking after she is finished. Thank you. Now here she is, CEO and founder of Clothes Over Bros, Brooke Davis."

Brooke stepped up behind the podium after Calliope vacated the spot, setting her paper onto it while looking over the assemble press corp. _Here we go._

"Alright, as many of you may already be aware," Brooke began in a calm tone, hands stationed on opposite ends of the wooden podium before her. "Two weeks ago, my mother and former CEO Victoria Davis was let go from our company without public explaination. While many of you have speculated as to the reasons for her termination, I am here to tell you that I did not do this without thinking my actions through very thoroughly. While I admit that my mother and I did not always see eye to eye on some matters, I will also admit that Mrs. Davis did some very good work for us under her tenure here at Clothes Over Bros. Unfortunately, her ideas for the company did not mesh with what we have in mind for the future and we were forced to let her go. I wish her the best of luck in her future endeavors."

Brooke took a breath before continuing.

"At this time, everyday operations of Clothes Over Bros will continue as they have under the watchful eyes of my board of directors. And I assure you, as well as my valued customers and investors, that business will carry on as usual," Brooke stated. "That will be all, and thank you for your time."

Despite being told that there would be no questions, Brooke knew that there was always at least one reporter or two who ignored that request at every press conference and fired off a question anyway. Usually that reporter would be ignored in turn, but this time was different as the question caused Brooke freeze in her tracks.

"Isn't it true that this rift with your mother was caused because she doesn't agree with your lifestyle? That she disapproves of your supposed promiscuity?"

The fashionista frowned at the creepy little man who'd spoken up, then smiled sweetly after coming to a decision right at that moment. "What's your name?"

"Doyle McMaster, New York Times," he replied, definitely surprised that the fashionista had stopped to answer his question.

"Well, Doyle McMaster, New York Times, it's actually quite the opposite," she informed him matter-of-factly, maintaining her smiling facade. "Of the many of men I've been rumored to be involved with over the last three years, all of whom my mother set me up with by the way, none of them have ever been or ever will be my significant other. In fact, no man will ever earn that title."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "What exactly are you implying, Miss Davis?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Brooke asked, dropping the facade to frown in disbelief.

"Are you telling us that you're gay?" One of the other reporters asked, causing several of their fellow press members to chuckle. Obviously they weren't taking this very seriously.

"Yes, that is what I'm telling you," the fashionista confirmed, bringing a sudden hush over the room. Brooke chose this moment to bring this press conference to an end. "That'll be all for today, people. Thanks for coming out!"

Brooke had just reached the exit when the room erupted with questions from the assembled reporters, a genuine smile full of satisfaction coming to her lips as she made her escape. It wasn't until she'd entered the back seat of her limosine that the fashion icon realized just what had happened, what she had just done.

_Oh, my God! Did I really just do that?_ Brooke asked herself, staring up at the ceiling of her limo. _Did I really just come out on national television?_

(Mouth)

"You've been pretty quiet," Mouth observed, walking beside his date up the front steps of Brooke's house. "Are you feeling alright, Millie?"

"Not particularly," the brunette stated, shaking her head.

"Was it the sushi?" Mouth asked, his concern deepening.

"The sushi was fine, the date was fine, Marvin," she assured. "You've been so good to me so far tonight, just like I knew you'd be. So it's nothing that you've done."

Mouth wondered what it could be that had perturbed Millie before remembering what had happened between the restaurant and the movie theatre. "It was Mia, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Millicent confirmed. "She really didn't like me, did she? And I'm just wondering why, since I don't ever remember meeting her before tonight."

"That's my fault, I think," the sports announcer admitted, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. "Sorry."

Millie frowned at him, not quite understanding. "How do you figure that?"

"I met her at the basketball game," he sighed, feeling guilty. "She's friends with Rachel, who introduced us."

Millicent let out a soft groan after hearing this, palming her forehead in what appeared to be frustration. "I was afraid of something like this happening."

"What?" Mouth asked, his turn to frown in confusion.

"Look, I like you, Marvin," Millie said, placing a hand on his chest. "I like you alot, but it's quite obvious that you come with a lot of baggage, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to carry it. So I'm going end this now before I get too attached to you. I'm sorry."

"Millie, don't do this," Marvin breathed.

"Goodnight, Marvin," the brunette rasped, kissing him on the cheek before rushing inside the house.

Mouth didn't know how long he stood there in shock, wondering what the hell just happened, but before he realized it, his legs were carrying him back to his car and towards a familiar destination. When he arrived at the old Victorian style house, Mouth exitted his vehicle and stomped up the cobbled walkway with purpose in his step.

"Open the door, Rachel," Mouth cried, pounding on the door like a mad man. "We need to talk, and talk right now, damn it!"

A moment later, the door opened just enough to reveal Peyton standing there, her cold jade colored gaze burrowing into him. "That's not a good idea. Go home."

"No, not until I talk to Rachel, Peyton," he insisted.

"Don't push this, Mouth," Peyton literally growled, causing him to take an involuntary step back. "Rachel is no shape for an argument right now. Go home."

"She can't handle an argument?" Mouth asked, incredulous. "Oh, I guess that's why she sent Mia to do her dirty work then, huh?"

"Go home," the blonde repeated before slamming the door in his face.

"You can't do this to me, Rachel," Mouth raged at the closed door. "You can't keep making me feel like crap for trying to move on with my life! It's not fair!"

The door swung open again, only this time it was a tired but very angry looking Rachel standing there instead of her best friend. She stepped out to join him on the porch.

"Not fair, Mouth?" Rachel rasped, her amber eyes narrowing at him. "How dare you come here and say that to me! You think I asked Mia to do what she did tonight? Do you think I told her to screw up her own date with a guy she really likes just to spite you? Do you think I wanted my friend to be completely miserable and most likely crying herself to sleep tonight because she thinks Skillz doesn't want anything to do with her now? Well, do you?" Mouth turned his face away, suddenly ashamed of his earlier accusation. "I didn't fucking think so. Now go home."

"Shit," Marvin swore as the door was once again slammed in his face.

**End scene.**

**I'm not completely satisfied with how awkward this chapter was written out, but it does convey what I wanted to happen.**

**Here's the list:**

**1) Speed bump in the Skia relationship? Check.**

**2) Brooke unintentionally outing herself on live tv? Check.**

**3) Millie having second thoughts on dating Mouth? Check.**

**4) Mouth flying off the handle only to be put in his place by Rachel? Check.**

**Ooh, what's gonna happen next, I wonder?**

**Reviews are much appreciated!**

**Track 19 ~ 'My Stupid Mouth' by John Mayer (from 'Room For Squares')**

**P.S.- Did anybody happen to catch the minor crossover character I threw in from the Gilmore Girls universe?**


	20. American Love

_A/N- Oh, my God! This chapter was so much fun to write. Despite that though, I realized after I finished it that it is completely self-indulgant. Oh, well! Hopefully, some of you guys will enjoy it as well._

**20 - American Love**

(Lucas)

"Wow, that was quite the impressive line to get in here," Lucas observed aloud, holding his fiance's hand as they weaved through the small crowd towards the bar. "Who's playing tonight anyway?"

"I don't really know, I just know that Haley wanted us to be here so we can support Mia because she's the opening act," Lindsey shouted, barely audible over the music.

"Yeah, well, I hope she starts soon, because this DJ's taste in music is pretty crappy," he said, stepping up to the main bar. "Hey, Owen, we'll have a beer and a martini, please."

"Coming right up, Luke," the burly bartender nodded.

"Um, how do you know this Mia anyway?" Lucas asked his fiance, curious. This was the first he was hearing of the girl.

"Peyton introduced us when we all got stuck in the library last week," she answered, surprising him. "Oh, hey, there they are."

_Since when is Lindsey on friendly terms with Peyton?_ Lucas wondered, his greyish blue eyes drawn across the crowded room to where Lindsey was pointing at a small group of three women standing near the backstage entrance. He recognized two of them immediately as being Rachel and Peyton, but the girl with the charcoal shaded hair was someone he had yet to meet. _I'm guessing that's Mia._

"Here are your drinks," Owen stated, bring his attention back to the barkeep. "I'll put it on your tab."

"Thanks, man," the writer-turned-coach replied, handing his soon-to-be bride her martini. "Here you go, babe."

"Let's go say hi," Lindsey suggested after taking a quick sip, quickly leading him by the hand towards their friends.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Linds," a reluntant Lucas said, not looking forward to speaking with Peyton again since their last encounter.

"Suck it up, Scott," she ordered, still pulling him along until coming to a sudden stop just short of them reaching the others. "Unless, of course, there's some reason that you don't want to talk to them."

"No reason," he lied, shaking his head.

Lindsey frowned at him for a quick moment, like she was disappointed, but swiftly replaced that expression with a bright smile. "Well, if that's the case, let's go!"

_I have a bad feeling about this,_ Lucas sighed, once again finding himself being pulled along by his fiance. She'd been doing that quick expression shift for a while now, and the blonde man was beginning to get a little worried about her. Or rather, on what she'd might be thinking.

_You know, if you'd just told her the truth from the start, Lucas, then you wouldn't be feeling so guilty right now_, said a voice in his head, one that sounded conspiciously like his uncle, Keith Scott.

"Great, now I'm going insane," Lucas muttered under his breath.

"Hey, Mia," his fiance greeted, joining the group. "Can you believe how packed it is in here?"

"Yeah, that's really helping my nerves," the nervous looking brunette grumbled, who Lucas had correctly presumed to be Mia. "Thanks alot!"

"I'm sure you'll do great, Mia," Lindsey assured with a laugh, then shot a genuine smile at the other two women present. "Peyton, Rachel. So good to see you."

"Hey, Lindsey," Peyton smiled back at her. "Glad you made it."

"Well, Haley forwarded your invite to me, and it would've been rude to refuse," the editor replied, speaking with the curly haired blonde like they were old friends. "Besides, I'm always up for some live music."

"Okay, I'm confused," the frowning red-head declared, raising a hand to catch Lindsey's attention. "Are we in _the Outer Limits_, or something? Because I was under the distinct impression that you hated our guts."

_You're not the only one who thought that, Rachel,_ Lucas squinted, his uneasiness growing by the minute.

"That was before I got to know you guys better," Lindsey explained. "But if you want, I can apologize for my initial bitchiness."

"Whatever," Rachel replied, casually waving her off.

"Anyhow, I should head backstage now," Mia sighed, dejected. "I was hoping that Antwon would show up, but I guess I really blew it with him, huh?"

"Come on, superstar," Peyton smiled, hugging the young singer around the shoulders as they began towards the backstage area. "Let's do some last minute prep before your world debut, okay?"

"Yes, mother," the singer deadpanned, bringing a laugh from everybody in earshot.

"See you girls later," Peyton blindly waved over a shoulder with her free hand, leaving no doubt in the writer's mind that she was still pretty pissed at him.

_It was like I wasn't even here,_ he frowned, watching the blonde walk away. _Like she was looking straight through me._

"You shouldn't stare so hard at Peyton's ass like that, Broody," Rachel stated into his ear, startling him from his unexpected stupor. "Especially when your fiance is standing right beside you, idiot."

"What?" Lucas cried, indignant. "I wasn't-"

"Good luck," the red-head interupted with a chuckle, then gestured to the woman beside him. "Because from the looks of it, you're gonna need it. Ta-ta!"

Lucas turned to face his fiance, a little frightened by the cold fury in her eyes. "Linds-"

"Not another fucking word," Lindsey ground out through clenched teeth, glaring daggers at him. "One time. Just one time while in her presence, could you please try to keep yourself from ogling Peyton?"

"But I wasn't...I-" Lucas denied, sputtering. "That's ridiculous!"

"It's not ridiculous, Luke, but do you want to know what is?" Lindsey shouted before pointing to her hair. "This is! My fucking hair is ridiculous!"

He frowned in confusion. "There's nothing wrong with your hair. It looks great!"

"Of course, you'd think that," she cried in obvious frustration. "It's Peyton blonde! I'm _Single White Female_, for fuck's sake!"

"No, you're not," the writer told his very angry wife-to-be, wondering how long she'd been feeling this way.

"Yes, I am," Lindsey insisted with forced calm. "And frankly, I'm sick of it. Ever since I met Peyton, I've been acting like a crazy bitch. I've been neurotic, insecure, paranoid, jealous and that's just not who I am."

Lucas sighed, "I know that."

"But it's who I've become," she cried, poking him in the chest with her finger. "I am neither stupid nor blind, Lucas. I know that Peyton's the reason you're writing again, and I refuse to be a chapter in your next futile love letter to her."

"What?" Lucas said lowly, shocked.

"I know all about what really happened between you and Peyton. Or should I say, Peyton _and_ Brooke? So whatever game you've been playing ends here, Lucas," she stated. "You either let her go, once and for all, or you're going to lose everything."

"Now wait a second-"

"I've been waiting for you, you idiot," she cried, pushing him back a step. "I moved here for you, remember? So what you need to do now is figure out what you want."

Lucas stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I want you."

"I really want to believe that, Luke," Lindsey sniffled, shrugging his hands off while brushing away a stray tear. "I really do, but the way you keep looking at a certain blonde lesbian is making that very difficult for me."

"Lindsey, I'm sor-" Lucas began, guilt filling him at how badly he'd hurt her.

"I have business to attend to in New York on Monday, but I think I'll head home, grab my luggage and catch the next flight out," she said, cutting him off. "While I'm gone, I need you ask yourself this, Lucas; Is your hopeless infatuation with Peyton worth losing me over?"

"Linds..."

"If you have any respect for me, or our relationship," Lindsey interjected, once again cutting him off. "You'll give me an honest answer when I get back, Lucas."

Without another word, Lindsey Evelyn Strauss walked away from him. It wasn't lost on Lucas that it may be for the last time.

(Peyton)

"I can't do this, Peyton," a nervous Mia whined. "I'm too freaked out!"

"Okay, calm down," the producer assured, hands resting on the younger woman's shoulders to prevent her from pacing. "You can totally do this, Mia. Do you remember the first time we met? What you were doing?"

"Yeah, I was busking," the musician nodded, not understanding.

"And where were you busking?" Peyton prodded.

"In the park," Mia frowned before understanding what her friend was getting at. "You want me to pretend I'm busking? That's not going to work!"

"Yes, it will," the blonde grinned. "And why shouldn't it? Busking is very public, and so is this. The only difference is the venue. Park, night club. Not much of a difference to me."

Mia began to whine again, "Peyton..."

"If you want, I can have Rachel huck quarters at you while you're on stage," Peyton offered, releasing her hold on Mia. "Will that help?"

"You can be such a bitch, you know that?" Mia grinned, definitely calmer than earlier.

"What's this about me hucking quarters at somebody?" Rachel grinned, joining them backstage. "Sounds like fun!"

Peyton looked back at her best friend, then again at Mia, smiling at how much happier they seemed to be. Sure, both girls still had that same sadness reflecting in their eyes, but at least now they were smiling again. This was a definite improvement from just a few days ago, when the pair were completely depressing to be around. _Now I have an inkling of how Rachel must have felt dealing with my silly ass back in Los Angeles!_

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Lucas shouted, coming from out of nowhere to stand in front of Peyton. "Do you have a switch in your head that magically tells you when I'm happy?"

"Oh, boy," Mia whispered, backing away a little from the coming confrontation.

"And here we go," Rachel muttered under her breath, like she'd been expecting this to happen. "Peyton?"

"I'll handle this, just be quiet," she told her friend, who nodded in response. Truth be told, Peyton had been expecting something like this as well. So she was more than ready to strike back accordingly if the need should arise. She glared up at the taller Lucas Scott's steely blue eyes before sneering out, "I take it that Lindsey finally called you on all your shit, huh?"

"Fuck you," he scowled, doing that squinty thing that was his trademark.

"What's the matter, Lucas?" Peyton growled, stabbing her finger into his chest. "Not liking the taste of your own medicine? Well, tough shit! This is the price you pay for lying to your fiance for so long, the price you pay for being such a fickle, self-righteous bastard!"

"Fickle, self-righteous bastard?" Lucas roared, his eyes now practically bulging from his head. "That's rich, coming from you!"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you have alot of gall to call me that, when what you're doing is just as bad," he huffed loudly. "Stringing Brooke along and giving her hope that you'll get back together, all the while you're sleeping with her!" Lucas accused, pointing at Rachel.

"Whoa!" Rachel cried, holding her hands up. "Who's doing what now?"

"And I can't believe that you have the audacity to accuse me of trying to pit you and Lindsey against each other, when that's exactly what you're doing to Brooke and Rachel?" Lucas continued to rant, ignoring the red-head's protest. "I'd get off that high horse if I were you, Peyton, because that fall is pretty steep for a skinny assed hypocrite like yourself!"

"You don't have a single clue as to what you're talking about," the blonde cried, pushing him back a step. "And I don't know where you got it in your head that Rachel and I are together, but for the last time, she and I are just friends, you stupid fuck!"

"Does Brooke know that?" Lucas shouted, causing the blonde to freeze.

"What?" Peyton asked, completely dumbfounded by the question.

"You know what? I don't even care anymore," he snarled, glaring balefully at her. "Just stay out of my life from now on, you filthy dyke whore!"

Almost the instant he finished saying those last words, Rachel jumped forward and nailed Lucas with a wicked roundhouse punch to his jaw. He stumbled back a couple of steps, an expression of complete shock on his face.

"I suggest you leave now, you cheesy Hemingway wannabe," the red-head said in an ominously calm tone. "Otherwise..."

Without saying another word, Lucas Scott scuttled away with his tail between his legs.

"Man, I've been dying to hit him ever since reading that crappy novel of his," Rachel grinned in satisfaction while turning to face Peyton. That grin disappeared immediately though at the sight of the blonde's expression. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Oh, my God," the blonde breathed, beginning to panic. "What if he's right? What if Brooke thinks we're together? What if-"

"Okay, calm down," her best friend interjected, rushing forward to grip the record producer by her arms. "Catch your breath before you hyperventilate." They paused while Peyton did what Rachel requested. "Better?"

"I need to talk to Brooke," Peyton stated, knowing that she'd put off having the coming conversation for far too long.

"Then go talk to your girl, Sawyer," Rachel smirked, letting her go.

"But what about-"

"I think I can handle introducing our superstar here," the red-head interupted. "Get going, you silly bitch!"

Peyton glanced over at her client. "Mia?"

"You heard what she said. Get your ass moving already," the singer cajoled, smiling brightly at her.

"Thanks, guys," Peyton smiled before dashing out of Tric, her long legs carrying her as swiftly as they could.

(Brooke)

"Hey, Brooke," Haley greeted, walking into the boutique with her husband following closely behind.

"Naley," the brunette beamed, happy to see her friends. "What brings you to my humble little shop so close to closing time?"

"Well, we're on our way to Tric to see Mia open for some band called Marianas Trench," Haley answered. "And we wanted to see if you'd like to join us there."

"Sure, I'll just close up and meet you there later, okay?" Brooke smiled, hoping that the married couple wouldn't see through her obvious ploy. The fashionista really didn't think she could handle running into Peyton right now, despite the contrary desire to speak with the gorgeous blonde about her impromptu coming out on national television.

"Told you," Nathan muttered in his wife's ear.

"Where's Millicent?" Haley asked, ignoring her husband. "Maybe you can just call her to come in and close up?"

Both Brooke and Nathan groaned, "Haley..."

"Call her," the shorter brunette insisted.

"Fine," Brooke sighed as she whipped out her cellphone, relenting before Haley James Scott decided to get really annoying with her stubborn prodding. "Hey, Millicent...wait, I can barely hear you! What? You're at Tric? No, it's alright, you stay there! I can handle close up! Just have fun, you've earned it! Bye!" She glanced back at the married couple, who were wearing unconvinced expressions. "What?"

"Gimme the phone," Nathan said, holding his hand out.

"No," Brooke protested, shoving it back into her bag. "Besides, your wife has Millie's number, so just use her phone if you don't believe me."

"What? I can barely hear you," Haley shouted into her cellphone, surprising both Nathan and Brooke with her volume. "Nevermind, we'll be right there! Don't go anywhere! Bye!"

"See? I'm no liar," Brooke said smugly to Nathan, who rolled his eyes in response.

"You want us to stay and help?" Haley asked, still not giving up. "Because it'll be much quicker than if it was just you."

"Look, Hales," the fashionista sighed, starting to get annoyed. "If I promise to definitely show up after closing, will you just go and wait for me there?"

"Fine, but if you stand me up," Haley warned. "I'll be very angry with you, Brooke Penelope Davis!"

"Hearing a mighty lot of if coming off this plan," Nathan muttered.

"Shut up, Nate," Brooke retorted, then looked directly at the other brunette. "I promise to join you and your hunky husband at Tric as soon as I'm done here. There, are you happy now, Teacher Wife?"

"Extremely," Haley grinned, satisfied. "Come on, hunky husband of mine, let's go. Our work here is done."

"Finally," he groaned, then waved over his shoulder at Brooke. "See you there!"

_Those two are such goofballs,_ the fashion icon smirked, returning to work immediately after her friends had left. Glancing up at the clock, Brooke decided that maybe she should just close early and began the usual shut down procedures. After everything was more or less done, she walked around behind the register to do cash out for the day. Halfway through it though, those ever familiar bells above the door rang, indicating someone had just entered the store.

"We're closed," she said without looking up from the register.

"Even for me?" An unmistakable voice inquired, causing her to freeze. The fashionista slowly looked up, her hazel orbs wide in shock.

"Peyton," Brooke whispered.

**End scene.**

**See? Fun!**

**:P**

**Review, please!**

**Track 20 ~ 'American Love' by Jack's Mannequin (from 'the Glass Passenger')**


	21. The Special Two

**21 - The Special Two**

(Mia)

"Good evening, Tree Hill," Rachel shouted into the microphone. "And welcome to Tric, where we have a very special treat for you. Later on tonight, all the way from the Great White North, the hot new band Marianas Trench will be up on this stage, but right now the moment belongs to a dear friend of mine. Put you hands together for the very talented and beautiful, Mia Catalano!"

With her guitar strapped over her shoulder, Mia walked onto the stage. She smiled timidly at the crowd, her earlier anxiety coming back with a vengeance. _Shit, that's a lot of people!_

"Go kick some ass, Kid," Rachel encouraged, laying a hand on her forearm. "Oh, yeah! I think if you take a look at the bar, you'll like what you see."

"What?"

"Trust me," the red-head winked before bouncing offstage, leaving Mia alone in the spotlight.

As her gaze drifted over the sea of people, Mia could feel her stage fright growing by the second. Just as she thought the pressure was about to crush her, Mia spotted the one person who she'd been desperately missing.

"You can do it," Skillz mouthed.

Mia grinned, then began to softly strum on her guitar while stepping up to the mic.

"Okay, this song was originally meant to be played on a piano, so bear with me," Mia explained into the microphone. "It's called 'I Won't Disagree', and, um...this one's for you, Antwon."

"Woo!" Rachel's distinctive howl came from somewhere offstage, bringing a laugh from everybody in the crowd.

"Anyway, here we go," she intoned before leading into the song.

_'Ignorance is bliss,  
__You'd always hear me say,  
__But at times you can't deny,  
__Those eyes looking your way.'_

_'Let me begin by saying what I mean,  
__It's a crime against the heart, you know,  
__To be somewhere in between.'_

_'Well, don't be shy,  
__I've got an open heart and hand,  
__And I just might have to confess just where I stand.'_

_'Lately, you make me weaker in the knees,  
__And you race through my veins, baby, every time you're close to me,  
__Take me away to places I ain't seen,  
__They say you've got a hold on me,  
__And I won't disagree.'_

_'Rock-a-bye, my baby,  
__Don't be blue tonight,  
__Oh, I'm on my way,  
__And I'm gonna make it right.'_

_'Cause I've got the feeling,  
__You'll be needing love,  
__And of all the lonely hearts,  
__You're the one I'm thinking of.'_

_'I've been told it's gonna take an iron hand,  
__To break the mold and stand above all of the rest.'_

_'Lately, you make me weaker in the knees,  
__And you race through my veins, baby, every time you're close to me,  
__Take me away to places I ain't seen,  
__They say you've got a hold on me,  
__And I won't disagree.'_

_'I'll be thinking of that evening,  
__When there's nothing for me to do,  
__And I'll be wondering if by some slim chance,  
__You've been wondering, too.'_

_'Lately, you make me weaker in the knees,  
__And you race through my veins, baby, every time you're close to me,  
__Take me away to places I ain't seen,  
__They say you've got a hold on me,  
__And I won't disagree.'_

"Thank you," Mia smiled as the crowd was cheering, her gaze locking with Skillz's across the room once again. "Thank you," she repeated sincerely to him, the stage fright that had almost engulfed her earlier now completely forgotten. Her playing quickened in tempo, leading into the next song. "Okay, this one's called 'No Good', and let's hope it ends up sounding the opposite of its title!"

Mia played three more songs before finishing her set, thanking the crowd and hopping offstage to where Rachel was waiting for her.

"I knew you could it, buddy," the red-head squealed, engulfing the singer in a hug. "How do you feel?"

"Oh, my God, I'm still buzzing from all that adrenaline," Mia cried, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. "If I had more time alotted for than just those few songs, I would so keep going!"

"Well, I for one am glad you quit when you did, 'cause we're gonna have a hard enough time following up after that performance," a skinny guy with bright purple streaks in his hair remarked, walking up to them. "Hi, I'm Josh."

"Nice to meet you," she smiled. "I'm Mia, and this is my friend, Rachel."

"You look familiar," Josh remarked, his eyes popping an instant later. "Wait a second. Your name is Rachel? As in Rachel Gattina, the model? You're that Rachel Gattina?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," the red-head said in mild surprise, glancing over at a smirking Mia.

"Holy crap, you have to come meet our drummer before we hit the stage," the emo singer cried, coming to stand a little too close to the former supermodel. "Ian is your biggest fan!"

"Oh, really?" Rachel smirked. "Lead the way then, Josh."

"You did good out there, Baby Girl," Skillz said, causing Mia to stop as she was about to follow after Josh and Rachel.

"Uh, thanks," she replied.

"Go talk, I have a fan to make happy," the red-head suggested before they left the pair alone, where Mia and Skillz stood in an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time, both of them laughing softly.

"You go first," said Skillz.

"Okay, sure," she nodded, licking her lips nervously. "Look, I know I screwed up by getting all bitchy with Millicent, but that was only because your friend hurt my friend and I just kind of lashed out, you know? I mean, Rachel took me in when she didn't really have to, and I owe her alot, but that didn't give me the right to act like that. So, I'm sorry for showing that ugly, catty side of myself to you."

"That was quite the speech, missy," he grinned, taking her hand. "And I get what yo sayin', and I respect tha' you're looking out for Red, because that's how it be wit' Marv and me. He's my best friend, always has been for as long as I can recall. So I get it." He lifted his hand up to her face, running the back of his fingers caressingly along her jawline. "And I'm sorry fo' just shutting you out like ah did. So what do you say we start over, baby girl?"

"I say ah-ight to that," Mia smiled, reaching up to entwining their fingers together.

(Rachel)

After a quick visit with the band currently making their onto the stage, Rachel went in search of Mia to see how her conversation with Skillz had gone. Just as she turned the corner, the red-head got an answer in the form of the couple sharing a kiss against the wall. As she approached, the two were about to seperate at the sound of her heels on the floor, but Rachel held up her hand.

"Don't mind me, carry on with what you were doing," Rachel grinned, walking by them on her way into the main public area. "I'm just gonna grab myself a drink."

"Dressing room, now," she heard Mia order her partner in crime, bringing laugh from the departing Rachel.

_Way to go, Mia_, the red-head thought, happy for her friend. Rachel weaved a trail through the crowd, finally coming to the bar some minutes later. After ordering herself an iced tea, she took notice of a very down-trodden Millicent, who was staring into her glass. The former model took a deep breath before coming to a decision right then and there. _You're going to owe me so much for this, Marvin McFadden! You better appreciate it!_

"Hello, Millicent," Rachel greeted, taking the seat next to her rival. "Enjoying the club scene tonight, are we?"

Millicent lifted her gaze up to glare at the red-head. "What do you want?"

"Easy with the hostility," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "I'm just here for a word between us girls, then I'll be on my merry."

"Fine, whatever," Millie sighed, her eyes once more cast downward into her drink.

_I can't believe I'm doing this,_ Rachel thought, taking another steadying breath before continuing. "Mouth is a great guy, but there's something I should warn you about when it comes to him."

"And what's that?" Millicent asked with wide eyes, brown meeting amber.

"He's going to make you fall in love with him," the red-head told her, looking away. "He won't do it intentionally, of course, but it'll happen just the same. And then it'll be over for you. No one else will ever measure up again."

"How would you know?" Millie quizzed lowly. "Is that what happened to you?"

"It's what happened to me," Rachel confirmed, her voice tightening from emotion. "Once apon a time, I was where you are now. He had his eye on me and I enjoyed it. We were best friends for a long time, then finally we were lovers. We were going to get married until I screwed it all up." She could feel a tear slip down her cheek, but instead of wiping it away though, Rachel reached over to lightly touch Millicent on her forearm. "Don't screw it up, Millicent. You'll only regret it, because there is no one like him in the world. Marvin is the best of the best and he deserves to be happy. Make him happy, okay?"

Millie gave her a sympathetic smile, seeming to understand how hard this must be for the red-head. "Or else?

"Or else," Rachel nodded, rising from her seat in order to leave.

The other girl's hand fell on her wrist, catching her attention. "Rachel?"

"Yeah?"

"I appreciate your warning, but-" Millie began.

She smiled sympatheticly at the brunette. "How long?"

"Since the grand opening," she admitted, removing her hand and looking away.

"Well, at least you're aware of it," the former model sighed. "Me? I was completely blindsided." Rachel paused for a second. "So you around, dork."

"See you around," Millicent replied, then quietly added. "Skank."

The red-head snorted in amusement, then walked away towards the exit. After leaving Tric and hailing herself a cab, the former model entered the back seat and told the driver to take her home. It wasn't until she was alone on the front steps of her house that Rachel finally allowed herself to truly grieve on the final demise of her relationship with Mouth.

(Peyton)

When Peyton left Tric to come here and speak with her ex-fiance, the blonde didn't quite know how things would go. Hopefully this encounter would go better than their last few had gone, but it wasn't lost on the curly haired blonde that things could easily blow up in her face. She hesitated at the door, watching as Brooke began to do the close up for her store's cash register. She took a steadying breath before entering, the bells above the door a harbinger for her arrival.

"We're closed," Brooke said without looking up.

"Even for me?" Peyton asked, smiling at the surprise she saw in the other woman's beautiful face.

"Peyton..."

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," the fashion icon parroted.

The former lovers stared at each other for a long time until Peyton asked the question she'd been dying to ask since hearing from Haley that Brooke was staying in Tree Hill for good.

"Why are you still in Tree Hill?"

"You really need me to answer that, Peyton?" Brooke returned, confirming what everybody already knew for a fact.

"For me then," the blonde said.

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Another awkward silence overtook the conversation before Peyton once again broke it.

"I saw what you did on TV a few nights ago," she remarked. "That was amazingly brave of you to do that. I don't think I'd be able to do that if I was in the same position."

"Thanks," Brooke replied, looking down at her register again.

Yet another awkward silence filled the room, but this time it was the fashionista who broke it instead of Peyton.

"I did it for you," she whispered.

"Excuse me?" Peyton asked, not sure if she'd heard that right.

"I did that for you," Brooke repeated, making her way from around the counter to stand in front of her ex-fiance. "Coming out so publicly like that. I did it for you, Peyton."

"Quite the grand gesture," she whispered.

"I want you back, and I wanted to show you I'm ready this time," the brunette told her, her sincerity on clear display for Peyton to see. "I still love you. Honestly, I never stopped loving you. And I never will. You're my shining star, P."

"I still love you, too," Peyton admitted, quickly adding. "But how do I know you won't run away once things start getting a little rough?"

"I wasn't the one who ran last time," Brooke quietly retorted, eyes to the floor.

"I didn't run away, Brooke," the blonde denied with a shake of her head. "Your mother drove me away. And you let her."

"You still left," she sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. "And I was left alone, alone with my mother." Brooke paused to take a steadying breath before gazing up at Peyton with the most earnest expression she'd seen in her life. "What happened to 'You and me against the world'? What happened to our always and forever, Peyton?"

Peyton swallowed hard, then replied in a strained whisper. "I've been asking myself those same questions for almost three years now."

"Is there any way we can get them back?" Brooke rasped, hazel eyes shimmering.

"I don't know, Brooke," she answered honestly. "I really don't know."

"But I miss you so much, Peyton," the world famous fashion designer cried, bringing a hand up and placing it over her heart. "So much that it hurts! It physically hurts me not to be with you! It's like a part of me is missing, and I don't know how to stop it from hurting! I can't function like a normal person anymore, I have to constantly put up this facade just to get through the day!"

"Brooke..."

"Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and reach over to hold you, only to find you gone," Brooke sobbed, dangerously close to becoming hysterical. "Then I remember why and I forget how to breath, because that's when I remember that it's all my fault that you're gone!"

"Brooke, please calm down," Peyton said, stepping forward to place her hands on the brunette's shoulders.

The fashionista started trembling, then suddenly brushed Peyton's hands away.

"I don't want to fucking calm down," Brooke shouted, her mascara running down her cheeks along side her tears. "Why can't you see that I'm trying here? I'm trying so fucking hard to keep my head above water, and you're just standing there, watching me drown! Why won't you save me?"

"Don't make me your savior, Brooke," Peyton rasped, wiping away her own tears. "Not when I can't even save myself. It isn't fair."

"You need to leave," Brooke requested softly before turning away, plopping down on one of the nearby benches. "This hurts too much. Please leave."

"Okay," Peyton nodded, making her way towards the door. Her hand was around the handle when the memory of every good thing that she shared with Brooke assaulted Peyton's mind, causing her to hesitate. Releasing her hold on the door handle, the blonde turned back around and walked over to kneel in front of a weeping Brooke.

"Look at me," Peyton requested, placing her hand underneath the brunette's chin. "Give me three months, Brooke. Three months for us to get to know each other again, to become friends again. Then, if I'm ready, we-"

"Three months won't make a difference to me, Peyton," Brooke interjected in her trademark rasp. "I've already waited the better part of three years. So even if it takes forever, I'll wait for you."

She swallowed hard, because she knew that Brooke would do just that. And in that instant, Peyton Sawyer knew there was only one thing she could do.

"Screw it," Peyton whispered before leaning forward, softly pressing her lips against Brooke's for about ten seconds before pulling away. She grinned at the other girl's shocked expression. "Don't make me regret this, Davis."

"What about Rachel?" Brooke whispered. "Aren't you two dating?"

"Rachel's my best friend, but she's not my girlfriend," the blonde informed, clearing up that misunderstanding.

"Oh," she replied softly, then perked up in realization. "Wait, does this me-"

"Yes, Brooke," Peyton interupted, grasping the other girl's hands in her own. "But let's just take this slow for now, okay?"

Brooke squealed loudly, then lunged forward to hug the blonde with all her might. "I can do slow, Peyton. I can do slow."

**End scene.**

**Review, please!**

**Track 21 ~ 'The Special Two' by Missy Higgins (from 'the Sound of White')**


	22. Heavy

_A/N- Sorry about the long ass wait, people, and I hope you enjoy this chapter despite it's obvious flaws. Oh, yeah, go check out the revised banner for this story. Or not. Your choice, really._

**22 - Heavy**

(Rachel)

"So tonight's the big night, huh?" Rachel asked, watching the other girl adjust her hoop earrings while simulatiously pacing the living room. The obviously anxious blonde was dressed semi-casually in a loose fitting white blouse, a black vest, matching black skinny jeans and finished off with those strappy heels that made Peyton look even taller than her usual five feet and eight inches. "Nervous?"

"No, I'm just stalking around the house because I find it all sorts of fun," her blonde friend snarked. "Of course, I'm nervous!"

"Sit down," she ordered, to which Peyton obeyed.

The blonde sighed, glancing down at the carpeted living room floor. "Am I making a mistake?"

"Probably, but that's just my biased talking," the red-head shrugged, knowing what Peyton was talking about giving Brooke another chance. "Honestly though, I do worry about your mental health sometimes."

"Bitch," her friend chuckled.

"I'm only joking," she smirked, then tapped her chin while looking up at the ceiling with an exaggerated thoughtful expression on her face. "Well, sort of."

"So, how have you been holding up?" Peyton asked, turning the tables. "You know, since-"

"Since Mouth and Millicent officially started dating again?" Rachel finished, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," the blonde nodded.

"I've been better," she admitted.

"You know what? We should do something. Just the two of us," Peyton said in a rapid tone, pulling her cellphone from her tiny handbag that had been hanging loosely from her shoulder this entire time. "In fact..."

"Peyton..."

"I'll just call Brooke and we'll re-schedule," the blonde insisted, already in the process of dialing her girlfriend's number. "I'm sure Brooke will understand."

"Now look here, Legs," a very touched Rachel said, taking a hold of her best friend's hand to prevent Peyton from calling her girlfriend to cancel their date. "I love the fact that you're willing to do that for me and all, but I am perfectly fine here by myself tonight." The blonde shot an unconvinced glance towards her. "Okay, fine, I'll be miserable, but I refuse to let you cancel your first date with Brooke just because I'm hurting over letting Mouth go."

"If there's anything I could do to help you, Rachel, you know I'd do it," Peyton rasped, blinking hard like she was trying to hold back tears. "You just have to name it."

"I want you to go out and have a good time, Sawyer," she smiled, so damned appreciative for having made friends with the blonde sitting across from her on the couch. "Because I think that at least one of us should be with the person they love the most right now."

Her best swallowed hard, jade eyes shimmering. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Rachel nodded, leaning forward to hug the other girl. When they seperated, the red-head grinned at her blonde best friend. "Besides, I have Captain Jack Harkness to keep me company tonight."

"Oh, damn, I completely forgot that _Torchwood_ was on tonight," Peyton cried, reaching once more for her cellphone. "I so have to cancel now!"

"Mia asked me to _tiVo_ it for her while she was out with Skillz tonight, so watch it with her when you guys get back later," the former model laughed, grabbing the cellphone away and shoving it back into the blonde's handbag. "Now get going and pick your date up already!"

"I'm scared," the slimmer girl declared, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"I know you are, Legs," she smiled in understanding before she brushed back an errant curl from Peyton's face, long ago realizing that the blonde had been stalling. "But from what you've told me, Brooke wants this to work out just as badly as you do this time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for being such a great friend, Rusty," the blonde smiled back finally, looking alot less nervous.

"Yeah, well, if you're gonna be great at something, right?" Rachel said, then shooed her away. "Now get your skinny ass out of my sight, Curly. You're cramping my style!"

"Love you, too, Red," Peyton laughed, rising from her seat to head towards the door. "See you later."

"See you later," the red-head agreed, then found herself unable to resist adding. "Oh, and tell Brooke that if she screws things up this time," Rachel shouted from her comfy seat on the couch. "I'll kick her fat ass so hard that she won't need a plane to fly back to New York!"

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that. Bye," the blonde called back before the sound of the front door closing told Rachel that their conversation was done.

The former supermodel's smile dropped away immediately after Peyton departed. She turned her attention towards the television where her favorite show was just beginning to play, then remembered who'd turned her onto the program in the first place. This thought brought a deep frown to her face and she shut it off. Rachel then brought her knees up against her chest and began to sob quietly by herself, suddenly wishing that she hadn't sent her best friend away for the night.

"Screw this feeling sorry for myself shit," Rachel declared after a few minutes, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. Rising from the couch, the red-head went upstairs to change, then headed out the door with no definite destination in mind, deciding that anywhere was better than sitting at home and sulking over a lost love.

_I'm Rachel Virginia Gattina, for fuck's sake,_ she thought with grim determination, stalking towards her old trusty Delani like a woman on a mission. _And I refuse to be love's bitch any longer!_

(Brooke)

"Then she was all, 'Excuse me?', and then I said, 'You're fired.' You should've seen it, P," Brooke laughed, hand-in-hand with her former fiance (now current girlfriend) as they walked along the waterfront. "I totally channelled the Donald and went all _Apprentice_ on her wrinkled ass."

"That's awesome, B," the blonde beside her said distractedly, not for the first time during their first date since reconciling a week earlier.

"I'm sorry if my storytelling skills aren't good enough to keep you from getting bored," the fashionista muttered bitterly, letting go of the blonde's hand.

"What?" Peyton piped up, her round viridian eyes clearly showing her surprise at her date's harsh tone. "Oh, no, Brooke, you're not boring me. Not at all."

"Really? Because you've been light years away all night," Brooke replied, calling the blonde on her distant attitude. "Look, I know we agreed to take things slow, but-"

"I'm worried about Rachel," Peyton blurted, then winced like she was expecting Brooke to fly into a jealous rage or something at the mere mention of the red-head's name. "Shit."

Brooke let out a sigh, then leaned forward against the nearby railing and gazed out across the water.

"Brooke..."

"Millicent told me what she did," the brunette interupted, her back still to Peyton.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she did," Brooke sighed again, shaking her head in bewilderment. "Who knew that Rachel Gattina could be so selfless?"

"She's a completely different person than she was in high school, Brooke," the blonde said with a slight tinge of anger in her tone, predictably coming to the defense of her closest friend.

"Well, obviously," she muttered, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Because instead of being the girl who was trying to constantly break us up in senior year, she's suddenly your best friend in the whole wide world."

"And whose fault is that?" Peyton challenged.

Brooke turned around with her eyes cast down at the wooden planks, unable to meet the other girl's gaze out of shame. She heard the blonde sigh, then felt Peyton lightly grip her wrists.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," the blonde apologized, running her fingertips up and down the inside of the brunette's forearms. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You can't keep throwing that in my face, Peyton," she rasped, looking up to meet that all too familiar emerald gaze in earnest. "I know that I fucked up that day back in New York, so you don't have to keep reminding me. If we're going to try and make things work, we need a fresh start. And that means we need to lay all our cards on the table, okay?"

"Okay," Peyton nodded, then motioned to a nearby bench. "Let's talk over there."

Brooke returned the nod, then allowed the tall blonde to lead the way toward the aforementioned bench. They walked hand-in-hand and sat down, neither really knowing who should go first until Peyton took the initiative.

"After the breakup, I decided to take that label job out west," her ex-fiance stated lowly, just barely audible over the usual waterfront sounds. "For the first month or so, I was alright for the most part. At least, on the outside anyway. Inside though? I was completely devastated, but you wouldn't know that by how hard I worked my ass off. I lost myself in my work, I guess you could say." She took a deep breath before continuing. "That lasted all about two or three months though, because that's when I ran into Rick again."

"Peyton-"

"Please don't say anything until I'm done," the blonde said, her expression pleading. It was quite apparent that just talking about this was hard for her. "Anyway, I ran into Rick and got mixed up in that scene again. I was popping pills, drinking hard and snorting coke left and right. It became this giant fuzzy haze for God knows how long. How I managed to keep my job during that time is beyond me," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "The truth of the matter is, I was trying to forget you any way I could. And failing pretty badly, I might add."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone," Brooke apologized, squeezing her hand.

"That's just it, Brooke," Peyton smiled softly. "I wasn't alone. At least, not for long."

Brooke felt a twinge of jealousy mixed in with guilt, remembering what the fiery red-head had told her in Tric several weeks ago. "Is that when Rachel found you?"

"Yeah, and she did it in true Rachel Gattina fashion, too," the blonde chuckled uneasily, running a hand through her curly hair. "Rescued me from some really butch chick trying to pick me up by pretending to be my girlfriend, then the next thing I know I'm waking up in her apartment. After that, I couldn't get rid of the bitch." Peyton took a deep breath. "And honestly, I'm glad I didn't, because I truly believe that if I hadn't run into her at that club that night, I'd probably be dead right now. She helped me get clean again." Brooke could feel tears slip down her cheeks as Peyton looked up to meet her gaze. "She saved my life, Brooke."

"And she brought you back to me," Brooke said through her tears, grasping a whole appreciation for the once troubled red-head. She sniffled before looking down and whispering. "I'm sorry I was the cause for all that, Peyton."

"Hey, now, none of that," the blonde replied, guiding Brooke's gaze up by placing her fingers under the brunette's chin. "I'm here now, and like you said, we needed to get eveything out in the open, right?"

"I came back to the apartment after our argument," she whispered, gently pulling away from Peyton's touch.

"What?" Peyton whispered in quiet shock, green eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

"About a half hour or so after our argument, after that stupid ultimatum, I came back," she elaborated in a rasp, feeling her throat starting to constrict a little with emotion. "But I was too late. You'd already left, and my whole world fell apart."

"Brooke..."

"I stopped thinking for myself completely after that," Brooke continued, cutting her off. "I didn't want to think for myself anymore. I just stopped caring. I let Victoria take complete control of everything. None of it mattered to me. Sure, I worked, but my heart wasn't in it, you know?" She scoffed loudly, her gaze skyward. "All I did was draw a couple of designs now and then, and sometimes show up at whatever red carpet event that Victoria told me to. That was it."

"If Victoria controlled everything, then aren't you worried-"

"That she'll try to steal the company out from under me?" Brooke finished, then shook her head. "No, I'm not because while Victoria and the board of directors may have run everything, the majority ownership of the company was and still is under my name." She smiled softly at Peyton. "I may have been depressed beyond words, but not enough to let my so-called mother steal my dream away." Her former fiance let out a sigh of relief. "Besides, it was all I had left."

The two young woman sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds coming from the other people who'd come to walk the prominade that night as well.

"I saw you in Los Angeles," she confessed in a barely audible tone. "When you opened the new Clothes Over Bros outlet, I went to see if you were there."

"I know, I saw you in the crowd," Brooke revealed, chuckling a little at the blonde's surprise. "I barely recognized you with your short hair though, so I wasn't sure at first. I was also in shock, so I kind of froze. And, of course, after I recovered enough to do anything about it, you'd already disappeared into the crowd."

"Uh, that's...wow," Peyton breathed, shaking her head. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, then rested her head in her hands. "Just...wow."

"Yeah, wow is right," she agreed, reaching over to lay her hand on Peyton's forearm. Her date glanced at Brooke, those soulful green orbs shimmering even in the dimness of the prominade lights. "I think we've shared enough tonight, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, the fashionista pulled the record producer up from her seat toward a nearby kiosk. "I'm in the mood for ice cream, aren't you?"

Peyton came to a sudden stop, causing her date to pause as well. "Brooke."

"What is it, Peyt-" she began, only to find the blonde's lips suddenly on her own. The kiss had lasted a good thirty seconds (or minutes, Brooke wasn't really sure) when they finally seperated, wearing identical dopey expressions. "What was that for?"

"Because I missed you," Peyton smiled, then moved forward while still grasping the other girl's hand. "Now let's get that ice cream, B Davis."

"Anything for you, P Sawyer," Brooke smiled back, simply allowing herself to be pulled along by the blonde. _Absolutely anything at all._

(Lucas)

_Okay, where the hell am I?_ Lucas wondered in a half drunken daze, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. _And why does my mouth taste like a cat took a dump in it?_

"Good, you're finally awake," Nathan's unmistakable voice stated from the doorway. "Go take a shower while I grab you a change of clothes, then you and I are going to have a conversation."

Before Lucas could ask Nathan how he ended up in what he assumed to be his brother's guest room, the younger of Dan Scott's two (known) offspring had already left without another word. It didn't take a genius to tell Lucas that his younger sibling was aggitated with him. Nathan's body language was a dead give away.

Deciding not to test his brother's patience and desperate to know how he ended up in the guest room, the writer-turned-basketball-coach got out of bed and did as Nathan had bid him to do. When he'd exitted the shower fifteen minutes later, Lucas returned to the guest room and found a white polo shirt, a pair of pants and socks laying on top the hastily made bed for him.

"Nate?" Lucas called out, making his way down the stairs after getting dressed. "Where are you?"

"Kitchen," Nathan replied in an obviously forced tone, clearly telling the blonde man that he was angry.

Lucas hesitated before continuing onward, finding his younger brother sitting on a stool near the island counter. "How'd I get here?"

"Sit down," his brother ordered, ignoring the question.

"Nate..."

"I said, sit down," Nathan growled, narrowing his eyes at his older brother.

"Alright, take it easy," Lucas said, complying to his command. Now seated atop a stool across from Nathan, the lighter haired Scott waited for some sort of explaination from the darker haired one. Several moments went by without either saying anything until Nathan finally spoke up.

"I know you're going through a rough time with Lindsey, man," Nathan began, calmer than he'd been earlier. "But that doesn't mean you can just show up here at four o'clock in the morning, drunk out of you tree, Lucas."

"Ah, shit," Lucas swore, leaning forward to hide his face in his hands. "Sorry about that."

"Your apology is accepted this time, Luke," he said, taking a steadying breath through his nose before continuing. "But next time you do that, I will kick your ass, older brother or not. You're just lucky that Jamie inherited Haley's ability to sleep like a log most of the time."

"I don't even remember going out last night," the older Scott boy admitted while rubbing his eyes, ashamed of his actions. "I just remember having some scotch after trying and failing to get a hold of Lindsey for most of last night. Then one turned into two, and so on and so on."

"She's still not taking your calls, huh?" Nathan asked, though his tone told Lucas that he already knew the answer to that question. As did his next words. "Not that I can really blame her."

Lucas glanced over at his brother in surprise. "What?"

"Seriously, man, what the fuck were you thinking keeping that information from Lindsey for that long?" Nathan elaborated with a frown. "You had to know that this was going to bite you in the ass eventually, right?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you why I pulled that shit, Nate," he groaned, once again placing his face in his hands. "Right now, I just want to see her again, you know?"

"Hales is pretty pissed at you right now," his brother informed, causing Lucas to look over at him. "She really likes Lindsey, they were becoming friends. And now Haley is all grumpy because she says that her first actual straight female friend since Shelly Simon is completely unreachable, and it's all her oldest friend's fault." Nathan's similiar grey eyes met his own steely grey-blue gaze. "I don't like my wife being unhappy, Luke.

_Very subtle, little brother,_ Lucas thought, letting out a long and tired sigh. He then nodded in understanding, knowing that he needed to fix things with Lindsey somehow. "It looks like I'm off to New York then, huh?"

"Good luck, 'cause you're gonna need it," Nathan muttered, stating the obvious.

**End scene.**

**I'm feeling a bit 'meh' about this chapter, but please review anyway. Thanks!**

**Track 22 ~ 'Heavy' by Collective Soul (from 'Dosage')**


	23. Love During Wartime

_A/N- Yeah, it's more or less filler, but at least it's an update, right?_

**23 - Love During Wartime**

(Peyton)

"So, it's been almost a month now, Legs," Rachel smirked, waggling her eyebrows across the picnic table at her best friend. "Have you and Brooke done the dirty yet?"

"That is none of your business," the blonde said after swallowing a spoonful of yogurt, then pointed at the former supermodel with her plastic utensil. "So stow it, Gattina."

"Actually, it's a pretty good question," Mia piped in between taking sips from her frozen cappachino. "But spare us the gory lesbionic details please, 'cause I'm not into that stuff."

"Screw that, I've always wondered if Brooke was a screamer," the red-head interjected, leering at Peyton with expectance. "So, spill already, Legs."

"Nothing to spill," Peyton admitted with a shrug, relenting to their demands because it was the truth. "We've been taking it slow, and when I say slow, I mean glacial slow."

"I thought you guys made out on your first date back together," Mia frowned, a little confused. "At least, that's what those photos in TMZ suggest."

"Okay, you're not allowed to read anymore tabloids, Miss Mia," Rachel declared.

"Hey, I'm not the one who reads those, it's Antwon!" Mia cried, only to stop clamp a hand over her mouth at what she'd just revealed.

"Who'd have thought that Skillz was into that crap?" Peyton snorted, amused.

"I am so hassling him about it next time I see him," the red-head laughed.

"Please, don't, Rach," the singer pleaded.

"And why not?"

"Because I'd like to have sex with him again sometime in the near future, and if you bug him about something only I'm supposed to know about, then there's no guarantee that'll happen!" Mia cried, pointing at the red-head. "So keep your trap shut."

"You're such a little drama queen," teased Rachel.

"Anyhow, I should head over to the school, Antwon wants to celebrate being named the new permanant head coach of the Ravens by heading over to Nathan and Haley's for a barbeque," the raven-haired musician informed them, rising from her chair. "See you guys there?"

_If Mouth is there, it'll mean that Millicent could be there as well. Things could really awkward, really fast. I wonder if Rachel's ready for this?_ Peyton wondered, glancing at her best friend. The red-head returned her gaze, then nodded at her.

"We'll be there," the blonde answered, turning back to Mia.

"Okay, bye, guys," the musician smiled back before leaving.

When Mia was gone, Peyton turned to her best friend intent on asking on Rachel's well being, only to have the red-head lift a hand up and shake her head. "It'll be fine, Sawyer," she assured, then repeated herself at the blonde's skeptical expression. "It'll be fine, I promise. So please stop treating me like I'm made of glass whenever the subject of Mouth and Millicent comes up, okay? I'm getting a little sick of it."

"I'm just worried about you," Peyton sighed.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm handling it in my own way," the former supermodel said, reaching over to grip the blonde's hand and squeezing it. "Okay?"

"Okay," the blonde agreed, trusting her best friend's word at face value. At least, for now anyway. "But at the first sign of trouble, I'm stepping in and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me."

"Duly noted, Peyton," Rachel smiled, letting go of her hand to stand up. "Anyway, shouldn't we-"

"Oh, my God," an angry looking teenager cried, showing up their table out of nowhere. "I can't believe you're cheating on Brooke! Again!"

"I'm sorry, but who are you? And what the hell are you talking about?" Peyton frowned, completely taken aback by this young hazel-eyed brunette stranger.

The seemingly distraught teenager shook her head, then threw the purple slushie she was holding into the curly haired blonde's face. "You cheating whore!"

"What the fuck?" Peyton cried in shock, immediately chilled to the bone by the frozen beverage hitting her skin and soaking her clothes.

"Hey, get back here," Rachel snapped, intent on giving chase, only to stumble because of her poor choice in footwear. "You're lucky I'm wearing heels today, you little bitch!"

"Sssooo ccccoooollldddd," the blonde shivered, already feeling the slushie splatter starting to get sticky.

"Some people's children, I tell you," the red-head muttered, then turned back to Peyton with wide amber eyes before bursting out laughing. "Oh, my God! You got slushied!"

"Ohhhh, shhhut upppp," Peyton sneer through chattering teeth. "My fucking hairrrrr is gonna ggget all sticky!"

"Yeah, let's get you to your girlfriend's shop and grab you some dry clothes there," Rachel said while snickering. "And then you can use her washroom to rinse your hair, My Little Frosty Blonde!"

"Sssshut up," she shouted. "Thisss isn't fffunny!"

"Depends on your point of view, actually," the red-head replied, still chuckling while leading her best friend towards Clothes Over Bros, which was situated about a block away from the park. "Come on, let's get going before that stuff sets itself too deep into those precious curls of yours."

"I hate you," Peyton muttered, allowing herself to be led away.

(Rachel)

A short walk later found the two best friends entering Clothes Over Bros, Rachel still snickering at the miserable Peyton the entire way, where Brooke looked up at them from the register with a confused expression. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," the blonde answered curtly. "Washroom?"

"In the back," the bemused brunette told her, hiking a thumb over her shoulder.

"Thanks," Peyton nodded before all but stomping in the direction her girlfriend had pointed, obviously aggitated by her run-in with the slushie wielding teeny bopper.

"Okay, Rachel, what the heck happened to my girl?" Brooke asked when they were finally alone. "Why is she all wet, sticky and angry?"

"She had a small altercation with a psychotic fan of your company, who thought she was cheating on you," a suddenly subdued Rachel replied, still uncomfortable to be around the fashion designer. The last time they actually talked was when Rachel had gone off the deep end on Brooke, and the red-head was feeling a tad guilty about that. Add in the fact that the former supermodel still held a grudge against the fashion designer for more or less abandoning her in New York, and the whole situation was pretty much another ugly argument waiting to happen. The only thing that had the best chance at preventing that from happening was the fact they both cared alot about how a certain blonde would react to such a confrontation, so they stood there as an awkward silence came to dominate the moment.

"So, how have you been doing?" Brooke asked, breaking the quiet.

"Huh, like you care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, guess I should've expected that kind of reaction," the fashionista sighed in resignation.

"What other sort of reaction would you like me to give you, Brooke?" Rachel muttered, trying to keep her volume down so Peyton wouldn't overhear. "You want me to suddenly be your friend again, just because you're back with Peyton?" She shook her head to the negative. "Not gonna happen. Life doesn't work that way, Brooke."

Brooke flinched, but had the good sense to remain silent.

"As long as you're with Peyton, I won't say anything openly hostile against you, but you and I, Brooke, will never be friends again. Not after the way you abandoned me when I needed your friendship the most," Rachel continued in tightly controlled fury, making the brunette cringe. "And if you end up hurting Peyton again, mark my words, I will end you on the spot. Do we have an understanding?"

The fashionista nodded, hazel-green eyes shimmering.

"Okay, good," Rachel breathed, composing herself before glancing at her watch. "Now when Peyton comes out, tell her that something came up and I had to go. Oh, and she needs a change of clothes, so I'd grab something off the rack for her if I were you."

With that said, Rachel stalked out of the boutique before she really lost her temper with the other girl. When she was about two blocks away and her anger was still unabated, the red-head pulled her cellphone out and opened up her contact list. Finding who she wanted to phone, Rachel hit the call button and waited for the person to answer.

A rough, masculine voice answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"What are you doing right now?" Rachel inquired in a harsh tone.

"I was about to head into work early and grab an extra three hours," the man replied, taken aback by the greeting, but at the same time seemed to be expecting it. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I suggest that you call in sick and then clear whatever else you may have on your schedule for tonight, buddy, because I'm on my way to your place," she told him in no uncertain terms. "And you had better hold on tight when I get there, because I'm going to ride you until you're raw."

Without waiting for a response, Rachel snapped her cellphone shut and hurried the pace towards her destination.

(Haley)

'BROOKE DAVIS SEEN MAKING OUT IN PUBLIC WITH MYSTERY BLONDE!'

'WHO IS THIS GIRL? BROOKE DAVIS' SECRET GIRLFRIEND REVEALED!'

'JUST WHO IS PEYTON SAWYER?'

'CHEATER! PEYTON SAWYER CAUGHT IN PUBLIC EMBRACE WITH SINGLE MOM!'

"Can you believe this crap?" Nathan complained, flipping through the various magazines their nanny had left strewn across the coffee table. "I mean, who comes up with these headlines? Half this stuff is made up! And this last one?" He held the magazine up in the air. "What a load of bullshit! That's just you and Peyton goofing around with Jamie at the park last weekend!"

"I don't see why you're letting this get under your skin, Nate," his wife smirked in amusement, while at the same time grateful that their son had gone out for ice cream with Carrie. His ears were a bit too young to hear his father's expletives. "I mean, if Brooke and Peyton are ignoring these idiots, why can't you?"

"Because I don't like people taking liberties with my friends," he ranted, tossing the offending tabloid across the room in disgust. "That's it, I don't want to see anymore of these damned things out in the open again! Tell Carrie to store them in her room or throw them in the trash when she's done reading them, because all they do is piss me off!"

"Yes, dear," the singer-turned-teacher sighed, rolling her eyes playfully at her husband's antics. Despite the fact that she was amused by Nathan's annoyance with the tabloids, Haley found herself loving the man even more because of the concern he was showing for their friends. Ever the dutiful wife, the short brunette proceeded to gather the magazines in the living room to throw them in the trash when the telephone began to ring, interupting her oh-so-important task of ridding the house of the evil tabloids.

"Hello, Scott residence," she greeted, the cordless pressed against her ear. "Haley speaking."

"Hey, Hales, it's Lindsey," her friend greeted back.

"Oh, hello there, stranger," Haley smiled into the receiver, relieved to hear the sound of her friend's voice. "It's been a while, buddy! How are you doing?"

"Great, wonderful even," Lindsey returned, her tone telling the young mother that she was telling the truth. "I'm getting married!"

"You're taking Lucas back?" Haley asked, surprised.

"Yeah, well, I figured that since he's been hanging around here in New York for the last three or four weeks now, sending me flowers and generally making an ass of himself, I thought that I'd take him back," the editor sighed. "God, just saying that, I sound like a high maintenance and manipulating bitch, don't I?"

"Well, if the shoe fits," Haley joked weakly, understanding where Lindsey was coming from. "But seriously though, I mean, you know, I love Luke and all that, but I think he should count himself lucky that you're taking him back. I don't know if I would've if I were in your position, Linds. You have such a huge heart to forgive him."

"Um, thanks, Hales, that means alot coming from you," the other girl replied with a little emotion clouding her voice. "And it also makes my next question easier to ask."

"I'd be honored," the young mother smiled, knowing what her soon-to-be sister-in-law was about to request.

"So you'll ask Peyton to be my maid of honor then?" Lindsey asked hopefully, then began to laugh at Haley's sudden sputtering. "I'm joking, Hales! Of course I want you to be my maid of honor!"

"That was just mean, Linds," Haley pouted.

"I apologize," the other girl said haughtliy, obviously being silly. It was a definite and welcome change from the nearly broken girl who left Tree Hill several weeks ago. "Anyway, I should finish packing, because we'll be heading back tomorrow. Meet us at the airport?"

"Sure thing, bud," the young mother promised, unable to keep herself from grinning. "See you then."

"See you then," Lindsey returned before hanging up.

"Who was that?" Nathan asked, calmer now since his tabloid tantrum from earlier. He grabbed the magazines that Haley had left sitting on the coffee table, then walked over to the trash can to dispose of them. "Haley?"

She frowned at him. "What?"

Her husband frowned back. "Who was that on the phone?"

"Oh, that was Lindsey," Haley smiled at him, then added with a squeal. "The wedding's back on!"

"So she finally caved, huh?" Nathan chuckled ruefully, rubbing his chin. "Who'd have guessed that Lucas hanging around her office for almost a whole month would actually work? I thought for sure she was about to get a restraining order on him."

"We have to plan an engagement party for them when they get back," Haley cried excitedly, making a list as she walked into the kitchen. "We'll have streamers, and cake, and..."

"Oh, boy," Nathan sighed before following after her.

**End scene.**

**Review after reading, please. It helps stop global warming. Okay, it doesn't, but review anyway. Why? Because I'm an attention starved whore, that's why! There, you happy now?**

**Track 23 ~ 'Love During Wartime' by the Main Drag (from 'Yours As Fast As Mine')**


	24. Say Anything

_The Engagement Party, Part 1 of 2_

**24 - Say Anything**

(Brooke)

"Yeah, we'll meet you and Mouth there, Millie," Brooke said in her cellphone, walking up to the house her girlfriend co-habited with two other girls. "I'm just picking up Peyton right now, but I'll probably have to drag her there kicking and screaming. So I'm thinking...twenty to thirty minutes? Okay, see you then. Bye."

The fashion designer took a steadying breath before pressing the doorbell, patiently waiting for one of the three inhabitants to answer the door. She honestly hoped that either Mia or Peyton answered though, because Brooke really wanted to avoid seeing Rachel right now. Just the sight of the red-head brought all the guilt rushing back, a grim reminder of what Brooke had let herself become back then. Her hope of avoiding the hostile red-head was quickly dashed though as the door opened to reveal Rachel standing there.

"Oh, it's just you," the former model muttered, rudely turning away. She left Brooke standing in the doorway. "Peyton, your woman is here!"

Brooke bit back a bitchy remark, not wanting to cause a scene. She was going to have a difficult time convicing Peyton to accompany her to Lucas and Lindsey's engagement party as it was, so allowing herself to get baited into a fight with said girlfriend's best bud was definitely out of the question.

"Are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" Rachel snarked as she left the foyer. "And don't forget about the door. It isn't an asshole, so it won't close by itself."

_Oh, the door may not be an asshole, but I know a certain red-headed bitch who is,_ thought Brooke, once again biting back another expletive filled retort. She'd been doing that alot lately when Rachel was involved.

"I'm still getting ready, but you can come right up, babe," the blonde called from the top of the stairs, smiling down at the brunette while dressed only in a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head.

Deciding that watching her girlfriend get dressed was infinitely more preferable than suffering any more of Rachel's verbal barbs, Brooke headed up the stairs and entered the blonde's bedroom. She placed her black designer clutch on the nightstand and sat down on the bed, unknowingly letting out a resigned sigh in the process.

"What's the matter, babe?" Peyton asked while buttoning up her black dress pants, standing there in front of Brooke wearing only a light green bra above her waist. In fact, Peyton was pretty much topless. The fashionista couldn't help but stare at the blonde's chest, having gone far too long without seeing her Goldilocks in such a state of undress. "Babe?"

"Um, what?" Brooke squeaked, glancing up to see her girlfriend smirking at her. "What did you say?"

"Well, before you went all pervy on me there, I was asking if something was the matter," her girlfriend stated, sitting down in the spot next to Brooke. "You seemed kind of aggitated when you came in here."

"It's nothing," she lied, not wanting to cause trouble.

"This is about Rachel, isn't it?" Peyton pressed, placing her hand over Brooke's. "Did she say something to you?"

"Nothing that was unwarrented," Brooke said, unable to meet the blonde's emerald gaze. "I mean, she's got all the right in the world to hate me."

"What exactly happened between you two?" The curly haired blonde asked, reaching over to gently force her girlfriend to look at her. "Brooke?"

"It's a long story and we don't exactly have alot of time to get into right now," the brunette rasped, blinking back her guilty tears. "Let's just say that Rachel's earned the right to be a total bitch to me if she wants to be, okay?"

"Okay, but only on the condition that you tell me the whole story some time in the near future," Peyton insisted a moment later, lovingly caressing Brooke's cheek. "Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed, then leaned forward to land a quick, gentle kiss on the other girl's lips. "Now finish getting dressed, missy, because we have a party to attend."

"You know, we could just stay in tonight," the blonde inticed with a kiss to Brooke's shoulder, gliding her fingers up and down her girlfriend's bare arm at the same time. "Did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?"

Brooke suppressed a shiver, then practically jumped from her seat on the bed to stand. "Nice try, P Sawyer, but we're going to this party tonight. I'm a bridesmaid and it would be completely rude of me not to show up."

"Your loss, but you can't exactly blame me for trying," Peyton shrugged, then rose from the bed to walk over to her closet. She pulled out two blouses, one was black and the other was white, and held them up for Brooke to see.

"White one," she suggested, adding at Peyton's inquisitive glance. "The black one will make you look like you're attending a funeral, not an engagement party."

"I suppose it would," the blonde nodded, placing the black back in the closet. As she was buttoning up the front of her blouse, Peyton smiled over at her girlfriend with that sexy smirk of hers playing on her lips. "You sure you don't want me to-"

"Peyton," Brooke frowned, shooting her a playful warning glance while recovering her clutch from the nightstand.

"Fine, fine," she chuckled, now bent down to pull on her strappy gold stilletto heels. "Let's go, spoil sport." The two of them shared a smile before exiting the bedroom hand in hand, Brooke ahead of Peyton, and made their way down the stairs. Halfway to the door, Brooke caught sight of Rachel in the living room and slowly came to a stop. Peyton stopped as well, then squeezed her hand. The brunette glanced at her, silently asking her girlfriend for a moment. She kissed Brooke of the cheek, while letting go of her hand. "Don't force the issue too hard. Good luck. I'll wait for you in the car."

"Thanks, P," Brooke rasped, gathering her courage. Her heels clicked loudly on the hardwood, echoing slightly against the room's high ceiling. She paused in the archway between the living room and foyer, not really knowing how to start, her thoughts swirling.

"Don't you have an engagement party to attend?" Rachel inquired without looking up from whatever it was she was watching on telelvision.

Not knowing what else to do, the fashionista decided to go with the first thing that popped into her head. If it resulted in a fight, so be it. But she really did need to attempt bridging this massive gulf between them. If not for her own sake, then for Peyton.

"I didn't completely abandon you back then," she stated, her clutch suddenly feeling very heavy in her hands. She was not looking forward to this conversation, but Brooke once again mustered up all her courage. The fashionista owed the red-head this much at least, because Rachel had been the closest thing to a best friend she had after her breakup with Peyton all those years ago. "I just wanted you to know."

"I'm not in the mood for going over this again, Brooke," Rachel said dismissively, still not bothering to look at the other girl. "Shouldn't you be going already? Don't want to keep Sawyer waiting for too long. She's not exactly the most patient person in the world, you know."

_Can't say I didn't try,_ Brooke sighed in resignation, about to turn and leave. She stopped herself halfway though, instead looking back over her shoulder at her girlfriend's best friend. "I know you have every right not to believe me, but let me ask you this, Rachel. Haven't you always wondered how Mouth was able to find you back in New York?" The red-head shot Brooke a surprised look, her almost completely round amber eyes telling the brunette she understood the implication. "Well, if you ever need a favor, don't hesitate to call me. See you around, Red."

"How'd it go?" Peyton asked later, when it just the two of them riding along in Brooke's brand new Beetle.

"I really couldn't tell you, Peyt," admitted the fashionista, unsure of how things now stood between Rachel and herself.

(Peyton)

"I hope you realize that I'm only coming to this thing because you wouldn't stop bugging me about it," Peyton declared, following behind her girlfriend as they walked up the steps towards Nathan and Haley's front door.

"Are you going to be like this all night, P?" Brooke asked, turning to face her when they reached the front door. "Because I remember you promising to be good tonight."

"Of course, I'll be good!"

"No, really. Please be good."

"I'll be good," Peyton cried. "Am I normally not-"

"You promise to be good?" Brooke interupted, still skeptical.

"Yes, I'll be sooooo good," the blonde promised before waving at Nathan, who had quietly opened the door during their conversation. "Hey, Nate."

"Hey, Peyton," he nodded, then regarded the fashion designer with a frown. "Just what the hell are you making your poor girlfriend say, Davis?

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Peyton said in a suggestive way.

"Nice," Nathan leered.

"Don't give him ideas, P," Brooke admonished, playfully swatting the blonde's arm. "Anyway, can we come inside, Nate?"

"Oh, yeah, come on in," he said, stepping aside to allow them entry. "Just go right on through. The party's out back. Oh, and the drinks are in the kitchen, so help yourself to whatever."

The girls shared a glance, then Peyton inquired. "And where are you going?"

"We're out of ice, so I'm heading to the store," Nathan informed, gesturing them to the back. "I'll be right back, now go. Haley's been waiting all night for you two to show up."

"You heard the man, baby," Brooke said, taking her girlfriend's arm.

"See you later, Nate," Peyton smiled, allowing the brunette to lead her inside.

"Later, Hot Shot," added Brooke.

"Ladies," he returned with a nod, then headed out the door on his errand.

"Shall we?" Brooke smiled.

"Do I have a choice?" Peyton retorted.

"Mmm, not really," the brunette laughed, dragging her girlfriend towards and then through the kitchen to join their friends in the backyard. As soon as they stepped outside, Haley more or less pounced on them. "Well, hello to you, too, Teacher Wife!"

"Oh, how I missed being able to hug my two best friends at the same time," the shorter brunette laughed, still clinging to the pair. "It's so great that you decided to get back together!"

"Yeah, it is pretty great, huh?" Peyton smiled at her girlfriend when Haley finally decided to let them go.

"I totally agree," Brooke smiled back, reaching over to grasp the blonde's hand.

"So it's true?" Lindsey asked, showing up from behind Haley. "You guys are back together?"

"Yeah, we are," Peyton confirmed, only to stiffen when the bride-to-be lunged forward and wrapped her into an unexpected hug. She glanced at her two friends in confusion, both of whom were stiffling their laughter. "Uh, Lindsey?"

"Oh, right, sorry," the faux blonde said, releasing her former rival to straighten out her shirt in an exaggerated fashion.

"It's totally fine," she assured, a little taken aback from this response. "Really."

"Well, now that I'm finished making a complete and utter ass out of myself, I'm gonna grab a drink," Lindsey stated, her cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment. "Excuse me."

"What the hell was that?" Peyton wondered aloud, reaching out to retake Brooke's hand.

"I think she's just happy that you are most definitely no longer a threat," Haley informed.

"You think?" Brooke laughed, only to stop for a moment. She squeezed her girlfriend's hand, grabbing the blonde's attention. Peyton followed the brunette's gaze, then took a steadying breath at the sight of an approaching Lucas Scott. Having been told what had happened last time the two broody blonde's had met, the brunette simply whispered, "Stay calm, baby."

"Um, I hate to interupt," the tall blonde man greeted timidly, his eyes pleading as they met Peyton's cold emerald gaze. "But can I speak with you in private, Peyton?"

"Lucas, I don't know if that's a good ide-," Haley began, recognizing the potentially explosive situation taking shape here.

"Sure, let's talk," Peyton cut in, pointing to the other end of the backyard. Without waiting for his reply, the curly haired blonde released her hold on her girlfriend's hand and all but stalked around the pool to where she had pointed. When she reached her destination, Peyton turned to find that Lucas had followed immediately after her.

"I see that you and Brooke are back together," he began after a lengthy awkward silence.

"Brooke is the only reason I came here tonight," she said, narrowing her eyes. "And she's also the only reason I'm not ripping your balls off and shoving them down your throat right now, so I wouldn't press my luck if I were you, Luke."

"Guess I deserved that," Lucas sighed with a rueful smile playing on his lips, while nervously running a hand through his hair. "About what I said back at Tric-"

"You mean, where you called me a filthy dyke whore and told me to stay out of your life?" Peyton interupted, the wince her words caused bringing her some grim satisfaction. "Or when you accused me of stringing Brooke along, while sleeping with my best friend at the same time?"

"All of it actually," he said, his expression sincere. "I'm really sorry, Peyton. I didn't mean any of it. I was just really pissed about Lindsey leaving me, and instead of directing all the anger at myself, where it belonged, I went after the easiest target I could think of. Unfortunately, that ended up being you."

"That's all well and good, Lucas," the blonde sneered, still not completely convinced. "But that doesn't mean your words didn't hurt me. And even though I was pissed about that stupid book you wrote, I still considered you to be one of my dearest friends!" She paused to regain her composure, then continued in a calmer voice. "Look, I appreciate that you're apologizing, but it's going to take alot more than some pretty words to convince me that you're truly sorry, Lucas."

"I understand," the writer sighed, slumping slightly in shame.

"For now, the best we can hope for is being civil around each other," Peyton offered, then waited until he met her gaze again. "But if you ever say or do anything like that to me again, not only will I kick your ass, I'll sick Rachel on you. And believe me when I say this, you do not want that to happen. Capiche?"

"Capiche," a cowed Lucas nodded, rubbing his jaw in rememberence of Rachel slugging him. "I'm gonna go rejoin the party now."

The curly haired blonde simply nodded, turning her back to him. After listening to Lucas walk away, she waited for Brooke to rejoin her. It was a full minute until the brunette could be heard approaching Peyton, her arms encircling the blonde's slight waist when Brooke finally got there.

"Thank you for not completely losing it on him, P," Brooke whispered, her chin coming to rest on Peyton's shoulder. The blonde record producer brought her hands up to lay on her girlfriend's forearms. "I know how hard it must have been for you."

"You owe me big time for this, B," she whispered, turning around in the brunette's embrace so they were face-to-face. She gently pressed her forehead with Brooke's own, her lusty viridian eyes sparkling mischeviously at this gorgeous woman in her arms. "And when I say big time..."

"We'll stay for two hours, then we're getting the hell out of dodge," the fashionista promised, taking the hint.

"One hour."

"An hour and a half?"

"I'll hold you to that," Peyton relented before laying a chaste kiss on her lover's lips.

"As long as you hold me," Brooke smiled in return, taking her hand to lead them back to the rest of their friends.

(Mia)

Ever since arriving at this party thirty or so minutes ago, Mia had been feeling rather much like an outsider. All the people present seemed to have alot of history between them. Other than Peyton and Antwon, the young musician didn't know a damned thing about the other party patrons besides their names. To say she was uncomfortable would be a massive understatement. So here she was hanging out by herself on the farside of the pool, seated on one of the three lawn chairs, staring off into the night. She took a slow sip from her beer, wondering what Rachel was up to tonight, if the red-head was with her mystery guy right now. _Whatever or whoever Rachel is doing right now, I'm willing to bet it's alot more fun than this._

"I see I'm not the only one feeling a bit out of place here," a shy voice greeted, causing Mia to look up to discover Millicent standing there. "Mind if I join you?"

"Free country," she shrugged.

"Thanks," Millicent replied, the chair creaking slightly under her weight. They sat in a silence that could only be described as awkward before the other girl finally broke it. "I think you and I got off on the wrong foot."

"If you're expecting an apology, you're barking up the wrong tree," Mia stated honestly, turning to face the other girl. "I don't mean to sound rude, Millie, but Rachel's my friend and I won't apologize for sticking by her."

"And I don't expect you to, Mia," Millie said, surprising the musician. "I didn't come over here looking for an apology anyway. What I am looking for is a fresh start between us, a clean slate because let's face it. Our bosses are dating, while our boyfriends are best friends. So it only makes sense for us to try and get along, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," she conceded, seeing where Millicent was coming from. "What did you have in mind?"

"Um, actually, that pretty much sums it up," the personal assistant admitted, who took a sip from her own girly looking drink.

"Sounds easy enough," snorted Mia in amusement, impressed by Millicent's quiet moxie. She glanced over at the other girl. "So can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Millie nodded.

"Why does everybody call him 'Mouth'?" Mia asked, curious. "I mean, is there some sort of explicit, dirty story behind that or something?"

"I asked him the exact same question when I met him, but I never did get a proper answer," the other girl stated.

"Hmm, I think we should go and ask him ourselves," she declared, rising from her chair. "Besides, I need another beer."

"My drink is getting a bit low, too," Millicent agreed, following the musician's lead. "And while we're there, we can find out why your boyfriend is nicknamed 'Skillz'."

"Oh, I already know why _I_ call him that," the singer stated with a smirk.

"Ungh, I really didn't need to know that," Millie cried, shocked.

"Meh, whatever," Mia shrugged, non-chalantly heading towards the house. As she and Millicent approached where their respective beaus were talking with Junk and Fergie, Mia couldn't resist coming up from behind her boyfriend to cover his eyes with her hands. "Guess who?"

"Hey, baby girl," Skillz greeted, turning around to kiss the musician fully on the lips. "I was wonderin' where you snuck off to."

"I was just making nice with your best friend's girlfriend," she smiled, lithe arms draped on his shoulders. "And we got to talking and both ended up wondering where our boyfriends got their peculiar nicknames from."

"Well, I don't know 'bout Marv here, but I-" Skillz began, only to stop mid-sentance while staring at the gate leading out front. "Ah, damn..."

"What is it?" Mia asked, following her boyfriend's gaze to discover that two new arrivals had joined the festivities. The songstress immediately recognized both of them, the first being that bartender, Owen. The second was none other than-

"Rachel," Mouth whispered in disbelief.

**End scene.**

**Review, please!**

**Track 24 ~ 'Say Anything' by Marianas Trench (from 'Fix Me')**


	25. Wish You Were

_A/N- While this update is rather heavy on the Routh drama, it does contain a Breyton moment near the end. Also, a little bit of Raley thrown in, just for kicks. Enjoy!_

_The Engagement Party, Part 2 of 2_

**25 - Wish You Were**

(Mouth)

It had been a little over an hour or so since an uncomfortable looking Rachel Gattina had arrived at the party on the arm of that Owen guy, and everybody had seemed to have gotten over their initial shock of her unexpected attendance. Well, everybody except for one Marvin McFadden that is, who was now covertly watching the red-head speak with Mia and Peyton, her two closest friends. As Mouth observed the woman he had once wanted to marry loosen up and mingle with the other two girls, the would-be sports anchor felt his stomach tighten at the sight of the intimidatingly built bartender heading over to join their conversation.

"Is everything alright, Marvin?"

"What?" Mouth asked, glancing back at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. He frowned at Millicent in slight confusion before immediately feeling guilty for having momentarily forgotten that she was present, and sincerely hoped that the cute brunette he'd been dating for the better part of two months didn't take notice of how focused his attention had been on his ex-girlfriend and her brawny date. "Oh, yeah, everything's fine, Millie."

"Are you sure? Because you seem a little distracted," she observed, unconvinced.

"I'm fine, really," he insisted, giving her a smile he hoped was reassuring.

"Millie, could you come over here for a sec?" Brooke requested, unknowingly coming to Mouth's rescue.

"Sure, Brooke," Millicent said, then back to her boyfriend. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Take your time, Mills," he told her, hiking his thumb towards the house. "I need to use the washroom anyway."

He kissed his girlfriend on the cheek before turning away to make his way inside, trying his hardest not to steal a glance at the gorgeous red-head who'd broken his heart one too many times, which by some miracle he managed to suceed in doing. Mouth shook his head at himself as he entered the washroom to do his business, knowing he was being unfair to her. It wasn't entirely Rachel's fault for the sorry state they found their relationship to be in at present. To be completely honest Mouth knew the majority of the blame lay squarely on his shoulders this time. Rachel was the one who wanted to give them another chance back at the basketball game, but he'd been so afraid of being hurt again that Mouth refused. Besides he and Millicent were just starting to get somewhere at the time. He shook his head again at the image of Rachel's broken expression that night. And try as he might Mouth couldn't forget the shitty feeling of how their last encounter had gone as well, where he accused the former model of trying to have her friend Mia sabotage his budding relationship with Millicent. To say that things had gotten complicated between himself and Rachel would be an understatement of monumental proportions!

"Damn it," he muttered while zipping his pants up, not at all liking how muddled his mind had gotten by just the mere presence of Rachel Gattina. "When did my life become fodder for a crappy teenage drama?"

With one final shake of his head, Mouth finished washing his hands and moved to open the door to exit the washroom. As the door swung open fully, he found himself unable to move at the sight of Rachel standing there. She gazed back at him, those amazing amber eyes of hers round in surprise.

"I'll just go use the one upstairs," she said, recovering first to begin turning away.

"Rachel, wait," he reached out to grasp her wrist.

The red-head quickly twisted out of his hold and slapped his hand away, those amber eyes now narrowed into a vicious glare. "Don't touch me. You no longer have that right, _Marvin_."

"Alright, sorry," he held his hands up and back off a little, recognizing that expression. Mouth knew what Rachel was doing. She was hiding behind anger to prevent him from seeing her vulnerable side, because that's how Rachel was. Better to be seen as a bitch than show any sort of weakness. Only a select few were allowed to see her vulnerable side, and apparently Mouth no longer belonged to that group. This realization saddened him. "I just wanted to talk."

"Well, I have nothing to say to you," she said, turning away.

"Come on, Rach," he began.

"I don't want to hear it, Mouth," Rachel snapped over her shoulder, still walking away.

Against his better judement Mouth followed after her, once again grasping her by the wrist when he finally caught up to the red-head at the bottom of the stairs. Rachel swung around and brought her free hand up in an attempt to slap him, which Mouth had anticipated and he captured that one in his grasp as well. Caught off guard by this, Rachel lost her balance and caused the both of them to stumble against the wall.

"Sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen," Mouth apologized, still gripping her wrists while unintentionally pinning the red-head against the wall. Suddenly very aware of how bad this would look if somebody walked in at that moment, he released his hold and prepared to back away when his eyes met Rachel's amber gaze. The next thing Marvin knew they simultaniously closed the remaining short distance between them and they began kissing one another with an intensity that was all too familiar. His hand found its way to her breast while she moaned into the kiss, her hands sliding down to the front of his pants to begin unzipping them. Just as things were about to get even more heated, the former lovers were interupted.

"Oh, my God," cried the familiar voice of Haley James Scott, effectively bringing them back to their senses. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

"This...is," he sputtered, stepping away from the red-head. "Ah..."

"This is my fault, Tutor Mom. You know how I am. Always stirring up trouble," a nearly breathless Rachel cut in, moving away from him as well and up towards the top of the stairs. "Anyway, I really need to use the washroom, so if you'll excuse me."

With that said, Rachel fled the scene and left her partner in crime standing alone in the foyer with a less than pleased looking Haley.

"That wasn't what it looked like," Mouth began, zipping his pants back up.

"I cannot believe you, Marvin McFadden," Haley interupted in disbelief, her lowered volume doing nothing to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Don't you realize that Rachel is still in love with you? And here you are _dicking_ around with her feelings? And what about Millie, huh? What the hell has gotten into you?"

Mouth swallowed and looked down in shame, "Hales..."

"I think you should go back to your _girlfriend_ and then leave, Marvin," the short brunette ordered, moving past him up the stairs. She glanced back from the top step, glowering down at him when she noticed Mouth hesitating. "Don't make me tell you twice, or so help me God, I will tell Millicent exactly what I walked in on here."

Knowing that Haley would make good on her threat, Mouth simply nodded before making his escape. He traversed the kitchen to rejoin his girlfriend in the backyard, where she was currently speaking with Lindsey and Lucas.

"There you are, Marvin," Millie smiled sweetly at him. "Where have you been?"

"I was just in the washroom," he lied, hoping his face didn't betray him.

"You were gone quite awhile there," Lucas noted. "You okay, man?"

"No, my stomach is going all funky on me," Mouth told him, telling the truth this time. Well, most of it anyway.

"Did you want me to drive you home?" Millie asked, her concern causing his guilt to deepen.

"No, I'll drive myself," he replied, slowly backing away. "You stay and enjoy the party, okay?"

"We'll give her a ride home," Lindsey offered, glancing at the brunette. "Sound good, Millicent?"

"Sounds good to me," she smiled, then stepped up and kissed Mouth on the cheek. "You go home and get better, Marvin. I'll come over and check up on you later. Deal?"

"Sure, see you then," Mouth nodded before all but running from the scene. He had pulled out of the driveway in a hurry, feeling sick to his stomach as he drove away, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he approached an intersection. The light turning red brought him to a stop, and his mind drifted back to what happened back at the house. He looked in his rear view mirror and in a sudden fit ripped the thing off, tossing it backwards in disgust. He glared straight ahead while waiting for the light to change, his entire being filling with self loathing at his most recent actions.

"What the fuck am I doing?" Marvin shouted in rage, now repeatedly banging his open palm hard against the steering wheel. "What the fuck is the matter with me?"

(Rachel)

_How could I let that happen?_ Rachel lamented, forehead pressed into her palms. _Look at how pathetic you've become,_ she berated herself, seated atop the closed lid of the toilet in Nathan and Haley's upstairs washroom. _No matter how much you want to deny it, you are still completely in love with that boy. Good job on not being love's bitch anymore, Rachel! Good fucking job!_

"Rachel?" Haley asked from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"

_Oh, goody! Here comes the judgement police,_ the red-head groaned, fully expecting a long winded lecture on morals from the short brunette. Despite this thought, Rachel rose from her seat and walked over to unlock the door. She quickly returned to her seat, refusing to look up at the young mother's accusing glare.

"So I'm going to ignore the fact that I just caught you and Mouth, who I remind you has a girlfriend, on the verge of having sex in my foyer, and ask you this," Haley began in the expected accusatory tone, only to surprise the red-head by softening her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Honestly, Short Stuff," she rasped, glancing up to see the unexpected expression of concern Haley was directing towards her. "I couldn't feel worse."

"Good, that means we can skip the whole speech on morals that you were no doubt expecting from me and get to the important stuff," the short brunette stated, then surprised Rachel once again by pulling the red-head into a hug.

"Um, Haley," she whispered, uncertain on what to do. "What are you doing?"

"I know we haven't always gotten along, Rachel," Haley explained in her ear. "But I know whatever that was I just walked in on down there was not your fault."

"How do you know that for sure?" Rachel asked, feeling her usual impregnable walls starting to crumble. "I mean, wha-"

"You don't have to always be the strong one," the other girl interupted, pulling back to look her in the eye. "And while I realize that you probably usually have Peyton for this sort of thing, I'm willing and able to pick up the slack for her."

The former model frowned at that, a little perplexed. "What do you mean by that?"

"Her and Brooke just left the party before I came inside," Haley explained, an apologetic expression on her face. "And they were being really touchy feely."

"Well, it's just been my lucky night, hasn't it?" Rachel sighed in defeat, her voice starting to tremble. "First I allow Owen to talk me into coming here as his date, even though I knew it was a stupid idea. Then I go and pretty much get caught about to fuck my ex on you foyer. What else could possibly go wrong tonight?"

"Oh, Rachel..."

"I mean, he's the only person I've ever truly loved, and I don't know how to let him go, Hales," Rachel sniffled, shifting her gaze downwards once again as tears clouded her vision and cascaded down her cheeks. "God knows I've tried to stay away, tried to move on, but I can't help myself. I love him, and I don't think I'll ever stop loving him."

"Come here," Haley commanded in that reassuring soft voice of hers, once more pulling the now sobbing red-head in her arms. "It'll be okay, Rachel, it'll be okay."

Rachel didn't know how long she sat there crying into her unlikely sounding board's shoulder, but the red-head was definitely grateful for the short brunette's support through this latest crisis. And while it was true what Haley had said about usually having Peyton to lean on during these types of situations, Rachel didn't want to disturb the blonde with her problems right now. Not when Peyton was so sickeningly happy to be back together with Brooke, who Rachel had to admit seemed to have changed a whole lot for the better since cutting that viper Victoria out of her life.

_And here I am, falling back into the habit of coming in between another couple,_ Rachel thought, recovering from her breakdown. She released Haley from the embrace and gently pushed her away, the former tutor watching Rachel with a worried expression.

"Thank you, Short Stuff," Rachel said, standing up. "And sorry if I messed up your night."

"You're welcome," the shorter woman nodded, coping the action while still wearing that worried look on her face. "And don't worry about my night. I doubt anybody's notice I've been gone, so I'll easily recover. The real question though is, will you be okay?"

"I don't really know," she answered honestly, walking over to the sink to wash her tear stained face. "Maybe someday?"

"But not today," Haley finished while handing her a towel, seeming to understand. "You need a ride home? Should I go and get Owen?"

"No, I'll just walk," Rachel smiled, now seeing why everybody loved this girl so much. She really was everybody's rock. "But thanks for offering."

"What should I tell Owen if he asks about you then?" Haley asked.

"Tell him...tell him," the red-head began, not quite knowing what to she should say until it dawned on her. "Tell Owen that he'll need to find himself a new cowgirl. He'll understand."

"Yeah, leave it to you to breakup with somebody using a dirty innuendo," the young mother muttered, playfully rolling her eyes.

"And here I was just starting to like you, Tutor Mom," Rachel smirked.

"Get going before anybody sees you," Haley said, returning the smirk. "I'll run interference."

"Thanks again, Haley," the former model smiled before making her escape, pausing at the front door when the other girl called her name from atop the stairs. "Yeah?"

"You're going to be okay," Haley assured her with a smile.

"I certainly hope you're right," Rachel smiled back before making her exit, high heels clicking loudly on the driveway leading onto the dark street ahead. Instead of turning to the right towards the direction of her house though, Rachel turned left with a hurried step and hoped that Peyton would be back home by the time the red-head reached her destination. It would make the coming conversation easier, though not by much.

(Brooke)

"So I was thinking we could watch a movie and drink some wine," Brooke said while unlocking her front door and entering the house, only to yelp when her girlfriend unexpectedly grasped her by the waist to push her up against the back of the now closed front door. "What the hell, Peyton?"

"I think I have a better idea," Peyton husked into her ear, gently but firmly pinning the surprised brunette against the heavy wooden door. She enveloped Brooke's lips with her own as she quickly switched positions with the flabbergasted brunette. They were both moaning into the kiss until Peyton broke it to whisper heatedly in her ear, those slender hands pulling at the zipper on the back of her dress in the process. "This needs to come off!"

"Easy, Peyt, this is a Vera Wang original," Brooke rasped huskily, surprised at how forward the blonde had been acting all night. "It costs nearly two thousand dollars!"

"Yeah, yeah, it looks really good on you, Brooke," her girlfriend complimented, still struggling with the zipper. "I just think it would look better on the floor."

"Okay, that's it," she said, pulling away from Peyton. "What's up with the whole horny teenager act, P? I thought you wanted to keep things slow?"

"I did, but I'm really...you know," the blonde explained. "And it's been a long time since I've...uh..."

"Gotten laid?" Brooke finished, knowing exactly where Peyton was coming from.

"Yes, exactly," she nodded, moving towards the brunette. "And I also happen to think that we've waited a sufficent enough time now that we can take things to the next level. Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, I do, P," she nodded back in agreement, then looked away from the beautiful girl standing in front of her. She desperately wanted this to happen, but at the same time hoped the blonde wouldn't be able to see through her and realize the real reason why the brunette was suddenly dragging her feet on this subject.. "But I..."

"Brooke?" Peyton asked, bringing her hand up to caress Brooke's face. "What's the matter?"

The fashionista took a deep breath, then glanced up to meet her girlfriend's imploring emerald gaze. "I...I haven't been with somebody in that way since..."

"Us?" Peyton finished, looking surprised by the confession.

"After we broke up, I couldn't bring myself to be with anybody else," she admitted, looking down again. Brooke felt a tear trickle down a cheek as her emotions got the better of her. "It felt like I'd be cheating on you, even if you weren't there anymore. Even though you didn't want me anymore, I still wanted you. And only you."

"Oh, Brooke," whispered the curly haired blonde, wiping away the stray tear before she brought their foreheads together once again. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I'll back off until you're ready, okay?"

"Thank you, P," she sniffled, resting her hands on Peyton's hips. "I appreciate that."

Her girlfriend brought both of her hands up to caress Brooke's face, then she gazed lovingly into her hazel eyes. "Anytime, B," she said, laying a gentle kiss to her temple. "I should probably be getting back to home soon anyway."

"Just give me a few more minutes, Peyt," Brooke sighed, pulling the blonde back into an embrace and laying her head on her girlfriend's shoulder. "Let me enjoy this for a little while longer, then I'll drive you, okay?"

"Take all the time you need, Brooke," Peyton whispered back, her arms once again circling Brooke's body. "I'm in no hurry to go anywhere."

They stayed like that for quite a long time before Brooke finally let go of the curly haired blonde, the pair of them leaving her home for the short trip back to where Peyton lived. Brooke kissed her girlfriend goodbye for the night and drove home with butterflies stirring in her stomach, though not the type that were caused by nerves this time but the ones that were the result of being content, happy even. And why shouldn't she be happy? Brooke was finally with the one person whom she loved more than anything in the world. And just the fact that Peyton was willing to wait until the brunette was ready to take their relationship to the next level made Brooke fall even harder for the blonde, which she didn't think was even possible at this point. The brunette smiled at the sudden realization that she'd almost regained everything that had slipped through her fingers so many years ago. She not only had Peyton back but the majority of her friends, along with all their love and support. Brooke had never felt this fulfilled in her entire life, and it was a feeling thsat she deperately wanted to hold onto for as long as possible.

After arriving home and parking her Beetle in the driveway, Brooke walked towards her front door, humming a small tune under her breath, when she came apon a familiar figure seated on her doorstep. "Rachel?"

"Well, it's about time you got here, whore," the red-head greeted, shocking Brooke with how much hurt was reflecting in those usually vibrant amber eyes. "What took you so long?"

"I had to drive Peyton home," she explained, more than a little thrown by this developement. "Um, not to be rude, Rachel, but what are you doing here?"

"Collecting on that favor you said you owe me," Rachel answered simply, then hiked her thumb to the front door. "Now let's talk inside. I want to finish this before your roommate shows up."

**End scene.**

**Yeah, Mouth doesn't come off in a very good light in this chapter, does he? And what could Rachel possibly want Brooke's help with?**

**Anyway, please review after reading. Thanks!**

**Track 25 ~ 'Wish You Were' by Kate Voegele (from 'Don't Look Away')**


	26. Let It Die

**26 - Let It Die**

(Rachel)

_And that's all of them,_ Rachel sighed, the last of her four suitcases zippered shut. The red-head stood up from the bed and gave the lavish bedroom one final glance, and briefly wondered if she was making the right decision by leaving Tree Hill. Rachel shook her head at the thought, and chided herself for that momentary loss of resolve. _It's the only way Mouth and I can be free from the hold we have on each other._

"You're not really going to visit your parents in Seattle, are you?" Peyton asked from the doorway, effectively catching the red-head off guard.

"Should've known I couldn't fool you with that," Rachel sighed while plopping back down onto the bed in resignation, mentally preparing herself for the coming conversation.

"Please don't go," the blonde begged, entering the bedroom to sit down next to her best friend.

"I have to, Sawyer," she said, fingers digging into her covers. "Being here is just too hard. I thought that I could watch him move on and be happy, but it really is too fucking hard for me."

"So that's it, you're just giving up and running away?" Peyton accused, sounding angry. "We both know that if you really wanted to, you could steal Mouth away from Millicent without breaking a sweat! So tell me why you're not doing that!"

"Maybe I could, but what gives me the right?" Rachel questioned in return, her hand closing over the other girl's. "Who am I to stand in the way of their happiness?"

"Then what about me?" Peyton continued in desperation. "You're my best friend and I need you here."

"You have your girl back, so you don't need me anymore."

"That's bullshit and you know it," the blonde stated quietly, her hold on Rachel's hand tightening almost painfully. "I'll always need you."

"If you really need my help, I'm just a cellphone call away. Just give me a ring and I'll come running," the red-headed former model promised. "But I still have to leave."

Peyton scowled, clearly not happy. "Rache-"

"I need to do this, Peyton," Rachel begged in a strained tone. "So please don't make this any harder than it already is, okay?"

The blonde looked ready to persist in her protesting, but paused before rising from her seat beside Rachel and took hold of the suitcase that the red-head had just finished packing earlier, an expression of grim determination on her face. "Let's get going then."

Rachel nodded in agreement, then followed after her best friend downstairs where Brooke, Mia and Skillz were waiting in the foyer. She looked the youngest member of the group in the eye, who visibly looked like she was trying to hold back tears. _Looks like she's figured it out, too._

"You're not coming back, are you?" Mia asked, confirming her suspicion.

"I'll be in the car," Peyton stated in a dead tone, refusing to meet anybody's gaze as she carried the two pieces of luggage out the door.

"Here, let me take those out for you," Brooke offered after an awkward moment passed between Mia and Rachel, taking the remaining bags from the red-head. She handed the larger of the two off to Skillz. "Here, you can take the heavier one, Antwon."

"Ah-ight," he agreed after Mia gave him a slight nod, relieving Brooke of half the burden.

Yet another awkward moment passed between the pair of friends, only to be broken by the red-haired girl. "Mia..."

"You selfish bitch," an extremely hurt looking Mia interupted. "I can't believe you weren't going to tell us until you got to wherever it is you're running to."

"Well, I've never been a big fan of good-byes," Rachel shrugged.

"Don't do that," the musician said, nostrils flaring a little. "Don't act all non-chalant, because that's just gonna piss me off even more."

"I'm sorry, Mia," she apologized. "But it is the truth though. I'm not a fan of good-byes." Rachel blinked back her tears, forcing them not to fall. "Mainly because I've never been very good at them."

The young musician's expression softened before Mia took a step forward and pulled Rachel into a tight hug, then hurriedly seperated herself from the red-head and turned away towards the kitchen with tears in her eyes.

"See you around, Superstar," Rachel whispered to the now empty spot where her dark haired friend had been standing. She turned to find Skillz standing in the doorway, who nodded at her in silent understanding. The dark skinned basketball coach then walked by the red-head towards the kitchen, presumedly to console his hurting girlfriend. "Skillz?"

He stopped, "Yeah, Red?"

"Take care of her for me, okay?" Rachel rasped.

"Ah will," he nodded before continuing on his way.

"Where's Mia?" Brooke asked from the backseat of the Comet as Rachel entered the vehicle a few moments later.

"She's not coming," Peyton answered for the red-head, somehow knowing this for a fact. With the exception of Mia's demo playing on the stereo, the ride to the airport was relatively quiet. After going through the usual motions of preparing for air travel, Rachel soon found herself hesitating again.

"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call me," Peyton stated, the sudden sound of her voice after being quiet so long startling the red-head. "Anytime, anywhere, I'll come running. Got that?"

"You promise?" Rachel asked back.

"I promise," she affirmed.

"I'll hold you to that."

"I'll be pissed if you don't," the blonde stated.

"Later, Legs," Rachel smirked, though all three of them knew it was forced.

"Later, Rusty," Peyton returned, blinking back tears.

Rachel turned to Brooke, who had tried to talk the red-head out of this course of action when she had shown up on the designer's doorstep two days earlier. Her protests stopped though after Rachel reminded Brooke that she owed this to her, forcing the brunette's relunctant acceptance. "Take care of our girl, Davis."

"I will," the brunette promised, taking hold of her girlfriend's hand.

"Thanks," she added, turning away. The red-head made it all of fifteen feet before turning back to rush towards the blonde girl who'd been her best friend for the last three years, tightly embracing the girl like her life depended on it. "I love you, Peyton. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I'm going to miss you so fucking much!"

"I love you, too, Rach," Peyton sobbed, gripping her back just as hard. "You saved my life."

The now sobbing red-head reluntantly let go of her best friend and headed back towards the boarding gate again at a sluggish pace. As she began walking down the corridor, Rachel glanced back one last time and gave the skinny blonde who'd become her dearest friend one last watery smile and wave, who returned them in kind. The red-head then turned away, her amber gaze now fixed forward towards an uncertain future.

(Mouth)

It had been almost a week since the events of Lucas and Lindsey's engagement party, and Mouth was nowhere nearer to feeling better about his actions. Guilt on what had happened between him and Rachel nagged at his conscience. Every time he looked at Millie, the memory of his betrayal would pop up in his mind. He felt like scum for succumbing to his lingering affection and desire for Rachel, not to mention Haley's harsh accusation of his playing with the red-head's own feelings toward Marvin.

"Are you alright, Marvin?" Millicent asked from the passenger seat, the couple having just finished dinner at a nearby Japanese restaurant.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"If you say so," she sighed, meekly accepting his answer.

_Rachel would keep bugging me until I told her what was up,_ Mouth thought, once again unintentionally comparing the two women who owned his heart. He'd been doing it alot as of late, which was completely unfair to both Millie and Rachel.

"You're low on gas," the spectacled brunette said, the seemingly innocuous statement breaking one of the oddly tense silences that had been creeping between the couple recently.

"I'll buy some after I drop you off at home," he assured lowly, his car already pulling into the driveway of the house Millie shared with her boss and friend, Brooke. "Don't worry about it, Mills."

"Call me when you get home, okay?" Millie requested, her hand laid atop his as Marvin had put the vehicle into park. "Otherwise, I'll worry and won't be able to sleep."

"I will," Mouth nodded, touched at her concern while simultaniously knowing he didn't deserve it.

"Goodnight," she smiled back, laying a kiss on his cheek before exitting his car.

"Goodnight," he returned with a low sigh.

Minutes later Marvin found himself pulling up to the nearest gas station, his tank dangerously low when he finally parked next to an open pump just in the nick of time. He exitted the driver's seat and told the gas jockey to fill the tank, even if he only barely had enough money on him to pay for it. The aspiring sports anchor perused the magazines, immediately drawn to the Sporting News, when he accidently bumped into a familiar blonde who'd practically come barreling from the washrooms.

"Oh, hey, Peyton," he greeted.

"Watch where you're going," the slim blonde sneered, moving to brush passed him in a hurry.

"You walked into me," Mouth pointed out.

"Oh, whatever," she rolled her eyes, already walking towards the door. Just as the door swung closed, Mouth barely caught her add under her breath. "Asshole."

"Whoa, dude," the cashier remarked with surprise. "What did you do to piss her off?"

"I don't know," he said, despite having his suspicions. Mouth shook his head and paid for his gas, then headed towards his vehicle. He stopped in surprise to find Peyton still there, though really he shouldn't have been considering the unreliablility of the slim blonde's beloved Comet.

"Just my luck," she growled, her emerald glare situated apon the smoking hood of her aforementioned beloved car.

"Car trouble?" Mouth ventured.

"I would not be talking to me if I were you right now, Mouth," Peyton warned, those viridian eyes now directing their vicious glare toward him. "Walk away."

"But-"

"I've already called Brooke to pick me up," she interupted, then repeated her warning. "So again, walk away."

Even though all of his instincts were telling him not to, Marvin decided to press the issue, "What's with the hostility, Peyton?"

"Oh, I don't know, Mouth," she cried through clenched teeth. "Why don't we ask Rachel? Oh, that's right! We can't do that, can we? Seeing as she left town!"

"Rachel's gone?" Mouth asked, taken by surprise from this news.

"Yeah, she is," Peyton growled, her finger finding its way to poke him hard in the chest. "Now you can move on with your brand new life with your brand new girlfriend without Rachel here to make you feel like crap, huh?"

Unable to say anything due to his dry mouth and the sudden tightening in his chest, Mouth was forced to close his eyes and recover from this news. _Did I chase Rachel off?_

"Thank God, Brooke's here," the curly haired blonde muttered, the slamming of her Comet's hood causing Mouth to jump involuntarily. "Bye, Mouth."

"Bye, Peyton," he whispered, still in shock. Mouth didn't know how long he'd stood there, but it was long enough that some other gas patrons were getting very annoyed with him just standing there staring off into space.

After re-entering his car and heading back to the apartment he shared with Skillz, who was over at Mia's place for the fifth night in a row, the would be sports anchor more or less stumbled into his bedroom apon arrival and fell face first onto his bed. The distinct crackling of paper under his body caught his attention, where he found an envelope addressed to him in Rachel's handwriting. Marvin took a steadying breath before opening the envelope, then promptly dropped the letter to the floor apon finishing it.

"She's gone because of me," Mouth whispered, the letter confirming his earlier fear. He placed his head in his hands and suppressed the urge to scream in rage. Rage that was entirely directed at himself.

(Peyton)

"What was that all about?" Brooke asked after parking her Beetle in her girlfriend's driveway, referring to the shell shocked looking Mouth McFadden back at the gas station.

"I don't want to talk about it," the blonde answered.

"Peyton," the brunette insisted.

"I kind of went off on him," Peyton admitted, knowing that the fashionista would continue to prod until the blonde finally relented.

"You weren't too hard on him, were you?" Brooke groaned.

Peyton glared at her girlfriend, "He deserved it."

"Peyton," she chided.

"No, I will not be made to feel guilty about this, Brooke," the blonde growled. "That asshole is the reason my best friend left town, so don't you dare try to make me feel guilty about hurting his feelings!"

"Baby, calm down," Brooke began, only to be ignored as Peyton practically ripped open the car door to escape. The brunette quickly followed her out of the car and into the front yard. "Peyton, come back! I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," Peyton snarled, now directing her anger onto her girlfriend. "Ever since we all came back to Tree Hill, you and Rachel haven't gotten along at all! I bet you're relieved that she's gone now, aren't you?"

"When did I become the bad guy here?" Brooke cried, clearly hurt by the accusation.

"You became the bad guy when you gave Rachel that job in Milan," the blonde snapped.

"I did that because she asked me to," the brunette rasped. "Because I owed Rachel a favor and she cashed it in!"

"Well, if you hadn't let your bitch of a mother take control of your life back in New York, you wouldn't have owed Rachel anything in the first place!"

"Fuck you for bringing that up again, Peyton," a teary eyed Brooke swore, turning away in a huff. "Just...fuck you!"

"Don't be doing me any favors, Brooke!" Peyton retorted. Her girlfriend gave the blonde the middle finger before angrily entering her car and driving away. It wasn't until the tail lights of Brooke's Beetle left her field of vision that the record producer realized what she had just done, causing a frustrated Peyton Sawyer to want to pull all of her hair out at that moment. "Shit!"

**End scene.**

**Why do I get the feeling that all the Breyton and Routh supporters are a little peeved at me right now? Anyway, please review and thanks again for reading!**

**Track 26 ~ 'Let It Die' by Feist (from 'Let It Die')**


	27. You Each Time

_A/N- This chapter more or less wraps up the Lincus part of the story. You're welcome._

**27 - You Each Time**

(Lindsey)

_It's finally happening,_ an excited Lindsey, dressed in full bridal regelia, thought happily while gazing at herself in the full length mirror, unable to keep the bright smile from her lips since six o'clock that morning. _In about one hour, I will officially be Mrs. Lindsey Evelyn Scott!_

"You look amazing," Haley complimented from beside her.

"Thank you," she beamed, which quickly shifted into a slight frown after noticing the absence of her other bridesmaid. "Where'd Brooke go?"

"Relax, Brooke just went to do some last second detail checking, so everything goes as planned," the young mother assured with an understanding smile. "She'll be back right away though, then we can get this show on the road and get you crazy kids hitched!"

"Oh, that's good, I got a little scared there for a second," the bride-to-be breathed in relief, desperately wanting this day to be perfect. She glanced at her maid-of-honor with mock annoyance as Haley let out a soft chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"I was just remembering my own wedding day, when my emotions were swinging left and right from worried to excited to scared and then back to worried and excited again," she explained. "And all the while Brooke and Peyton were laughing at me and I didn't know why. Now that I see you acting like this though, I get it and seriously can't blame them."

"Speaking of Breyton, what's the deal with them?" Lindsey asked, curious.

Haley raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, did something happen? Brooke seems kind of down," she reiterated.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping that I was the only one who'd noticed that," the shorter woman sighed, her shoulders slumping a little. "I think her and Peyton got in a fight a few days ago, but I can't be certain since Brooke refuses to talk about it and immediately changes the subject whenever I try to bring it up."

"They didn't break up, did they?" Lindsey asked with genuine concern. "Please tell me they didn't break up."

"Like I said earlier, Brooke refuses to talk about it and Peyton has more or less shut herself off from the world in that studio producing Mia's album," Haley elaborated, clearly surprised by her friend's reaction.

"I hope they didn't break up," she muttered to herself, turning away to face the mirror once again. "I really like them together."

"Yeah, me, too," her maid-of-honor agreed.

The sudden sound of somebody knocking at the bridal suite door startled Lindsey and Haley, both of whom had become lost in thought.

"Yes?" Lindsey called out to whoever was standing in the hall.

A familiar voice replied, "Is Haley in there?"

"I'm here, Carrie," Haley answered, immediately heading over to speak with her nanny through the door. "What's the matter?"

"Um, I know this is probably really bad timing on my part," the young woman apologized. "But can I speak with you in private, Mrs. Scott?"

"Yeah, sure," Haley returned before glancing at Lindsey, unsure. "Uh, you don't mind do you?"

"No, I don't," the bride shook her head. "In fact, you guys can talk here. I need to get some air anyway, seeing as I've been cooped up in this suite since I got here four hours ago!"

"Only if you're sure that's alright," the shorter woman said, eyebrow raised.

"I'm sure," Lindsey nodded before vacating the suite, closing the door behind herself. Her gown made a distinct swishing sound while striding down the hall towards the nearest door that lead outside, where Lindsey stuck her head out to find her soon-to-be sister-in-law Lily speaking with Jamie on the church's front steps.

"Come on, Jamie," the little girl said to the little blonde boy. "Say it."

"No, I am not going to call you...THAT," Jamie protested. "We're the same age, it's weird!"

"But I am your aunt, so you have to listen to me."

"But I'm older than you!"

"Only by a few minutes!"

"Hey, you two," she interupted, smiling in amusement at their little argument. "Is Lucas out here?"

"No, Aunt Lindsey, he's inside with Papa," Jamie informed, pointedly ignoring the little girl's glare at him for calling Lindsey his aunt and not her.

"So it's safe for me to come out and get some fresh air then?" Lindsey inquired, to which both children nodded in response. She nodded back, then stepped outside and took a lungful of the first fresh air she'd breathed in several hours.

"You look like a princess," Lily whispered.

"Why thank you, Lily," Lindsey smiled, bending down to met the pair eye to eye. "Could you two do me a huge favor?"

After enlisting to the two children in making sure that Lucas didn't come outside and accidently see Lindsey in her wedding dress before the ceremony, the bride wandered across the courtyard to where several familiar looking people had gathered near the road. The group consisted of Skillz, Brooke, Mouth, Millicent, Fergie and Junk, all of whom seemed to be tailgating. Lindsey couldn't help but laugh at the scene, which brought all their attention on her.

"Got one for me, guys?" Lindsey joked.

"I don't know if that'd be a good idea, Linds," Brooke smirked, holding up a can of beer. "Wouldn't want to accidently spill anything on that beautful dress, now would we?"

"Good point," the bride conceded, then quirked an eyebrow at her bridesmaid. "But doesn't that apply to you as well?"

"Damn, I was hoping you wouldn't notice," she chuckled.

"You looking good there, ma," Skillz complimented.

"Yeah, you look great, Linds," Brooke agreed with a smirk. "If Lucas wasn't my friend, I'd be tempted to steal you away from him."

"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate that," Lindsey joked, only to regret it immediately at everybody falling into an uncomfortable silence.

"Uh, maybe it's time that we all took our seats," Mouth announce uneasily, his hand on the small of Millicent's back. "Right, guys?"

"Sounds like a plan, Marv," Skillz agreed, giving the bride an apologetic smile before following his friend towards the church. Junk and Fergie waved at Lindsey and complimented her appearance, then they also walked across the courtyard after their friends to leave only Brooke and Lindsey standing there by themselves.

"Sorry about chasing everybody away," Lindsey apologized.

"It's not your fault," Brooke sighed in defeat. "Everybody seems to know Peyton and I are on the outs, but they're all too afraid to say anything about it."

"If you don't mind me asking," she inquired with trepidation. "What happened?"

For a moment Lindsey thought that her bridesmaid was going to remain silent, but Brooke surprised her by actually asnwering the question. "We got into an argument and Peyton brought up something she promised never to bring up again." The fashionista stopped to take a steadying breath, then continued. "We haven't spoken since."

"I'm sure you guys will work it out," Lindsey assured with a smile, pointing to an approaching Peyton and Mia. "I'll stall so you guys can talk, okay?"

"Lindsey..."

"Whatever she said, Brooke, the least you can do is hear her out," she interupted, her hands on the brunette's arms to prevent her from trying to avoid the blonde. "You and Peyton were miserable without each other before getting back together, and I hate to see people I care about miserable when they don't have to be. So consider this an order from your bride."

"You may want to rephrase that last part, Linds," Brooke joked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Nevermind that and talk to your girl, Davis," Lindsey ordered, gently but firmly turning her bridesmaid around to face the late arrivals. "Hey, guys! Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," Mia apologized, hiking a thumb at her friend. "But this one kept changing her mind on if she even wanted to come here or not." The dark haired girl let out a dramatic sigh. "I tell you, she is so much work!"

"Oh, be quiet, you brat," the blonde muttered, looking not at all happy to be there despite the smile gracing her lips. Needless to say, that smile was definitely forced. "Your dress looks amazing, Lindsey."

"Well, it should since Brooke designed it for me," the bride remarked, then reached out to grab Mia by the wrist. "Anyway, I think you two need to talk, so I'll just take Mia inside and do some stalling."

Both Peyton and Brooke cried out at the same time. "What?"

"That wasn't very subtle," the raven tressed musician stated, still allowing herself to be led along by the wrist. "But do you think it'll help?"

"Well, I certainly hope so," Lindsey shrugged, releasing her light grip from Mia in order to hold the door open for the younger woman. "Now what sort of crisis do you think I should fake?"

(Peyton)

"If she wasn't getting married today, I would so smack her across the face right now," Peyton grumbled, not appreciating how Lindsey had basically forced her into facing Brooke before she was ready.

"Yeah, she wasn't very subtle, was she?" Brooke chuckled softly. "But Lindsey means well, so I guess I can forgive her this time."

"I suppose you're right," the blonde agreed, now turning towards her girlfriend. When their eyes met Peyton remembered the horrible things she'd said during their argument and dropped her gaze in shame. "So..."

"So?" Brooke returned awkwardly.

"So...how you been doing?"

"Honestly, Peyt, I've been better," she sighed. "I mean, you really hurt me by bringing up what happened with my mom again, especially when you promised that we'd be making a fresh start."

"I know, I know. I really screwed up," Peyton said, her gaze still plastered to the ground. "And believe me when I tell you that I've been kicking myself for it ever since. I'm so sorry." She glanced up finally, fighting back tears. "I have no excuse for what I said, and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to end things between us because of it."

"Oh, honey, I don't want to end it at all," Brooke rasped, laying a hand on her girlfriend's cheek. "I love you so much, but you cannot keep using the past against me whenever we get into an argument." The brunette smiled, then slide her hand from Peyton's face to gently pull her forward by the back of the neck in order to press their foreheads together. "And trust me, I know for a fact there will be more arguments in our future. And you want to know how I know that, P. Sawyer?"

"How?" Peyton sniffled.

"Because you're it for me," Brooke whispered. "When I picture my life in ten, twenty, fifty years from now, I see you there right beside me. When our children are graduating, or getting married, or whatever, you're the one I see holding my hand through it all. Peyton, you're the one I want beside me when all my dreams come true."

"You want to have kids?" Peyton blinked in shock. "With me?"

"No, with Lucas," the fashion designer snorted, causing both of them to laugh. "Of course with you, dummy."

"I love you, Brooke," Peyton stated just above a whisper before leaning into a kiss, an action that Brooke mirrored by closing the distance as well. When they finally seperated, the pair found that they had an audience. _Uh-oh, busted! Hopefully Haley doesn't kill us for possibly traumatizing her kid just now!_

"Oh, hey, Jim Jam," Brooke greeted, sharing an uneasy smile with her girlfriend.

"What's up, J Luke?" Peyton asked, wondering what was going through the little boy's head right now. _Please, Jamie, don't freak out!_

"Momma told me to come get you, 'cause Aunt Lindsey's a bad actress and can't um...stall anymore," he informed, then added with a meaningful look at his Godmother. "Remember your promise, Aunt Brooke."

"Don't worry, Jim Jam," the brunette smiled. "I haven't forgotten."

"Okay then," he nodded, satisfied by her answer. "Hurry, Momma's waiting!"

"We'll be right in, Jamie," Peyton told the little boy, her hand grasped around her girlfriend's wrist so as to prevent Brooke from following Jamie into the church. "I've just got to say something to your Aunt Brooke before we head inside, okay?"

"Okay, I'll go tell Momma," Jamie grinned, turning to run pell-mell back to his mother.

As soon as they lost sight of the little blonde boy entering the church, Peyton and Brooke began to laugh at what had just happened. Their humor subsided a moment later when emerald eyes met hazel, and the curly haired blonde smiled softly to her girlfriend.

"I know that saying sorry doesn't fix everything between us, Brooke," Peyton said lowly, reaching over to grasp the brunette by the hand. "But it's a start. And I promise not to waste this chance to show you that you mean the world to me."

"When did you become such a sweet talker, P Sawyer?" Brooke whispered before stepping forward to kiss the blonde hard on the mouth, only separating several moments later due to a lack of oxygen.

"I suppose we should probably head inside now," the blonde relunctantly suggested, not wanting to relinquish her hold on the brunette.

"Stupid wedding," her girlfriend muttered like a petulant child.

"Come on, Brookie Cookie," Peyton laughed, tightly grasping Brooke by the hand again to lead the fashionista across the church courtyard. "I think we've held up this wedding long enough, don't you?"

(Lucas)

"Hey, babe, are you finished packing yet?" Lucas asked from the back door in their kitchen, still on cloud nine three days after marrying his former editor and longtime girlfriend, Lindsey. When his question was met with silence though, the writer meandered towards the bedroom where he'd left her two hours ago to run a few last minute errands before the newly weds left for their honeymoon. "Babe?"

"I'm in here," Lindsey finally replied, her voice sounding slightly raspy.

A worried Lucas was about to ask his wife what was wrong until he caught sight of Lindsey seated atop the bed, his recently just finished manuscript laying on the sheets beside her. A pregnant silence filled the space between them, only coming to an end when Lucas spoke up.

"So you read it," he stated.

"Yeah, I read it," she nodded, her hand gliding over the cover.

"All of it?" Lucas questioned with trepidation.

"Every single word, every paragraph," Lindsey answered, lifting herself up from the bed with the manuscript in her hand. She took a step toward him, blue eyes shimmering. "At first, I was furious at you for not telling me that you were done writing it, then I was even more furious after finishing the first six chapters. It was like reading 'Ravens' again, like another desperate love letter to Peyton." She took a breath. "But no matter how angry and disappointed I was, I continued reading, because honestly it's a great story, Luke. It's even better than your first novel, despite being only half as long." The formerly faux blonde, who dyed her hair back to its original light brown tint shortly before the wedding, took another step towards her husband. "I'm especially fond of where the main character realizes that while waiting for the comet to return, he'd almost forgotten to live his life to the fullest and decided that maybe it was time to let go of something that seemed a little childish to him when he got older."

"Yeah, it gets pretty autobiographical near the end, I suppose," he admitted.

"I'll take autobiographical over fiction if this means what I think it means," she said, taking that last step to stand directly in front of him.

"You're the only one for me, Linds," Lucas stated, cupping her face in his hands.

"That's good to hear, because I don't think I could handle this marriage falling apart before the honeymoon's even begun," Lindsey whispered, tears of joy slipping down her cheeks.

"Speaking of our honeymoon," he segued, pausing to lightly kiss her lips. "The gang is all waiting to see us off, so we should probably be going soon."

"My luggage is in the living room already, I was just grabbing my makeup and stuff when I found your manuscript," she smiled, the rough draft of said novel held tight against her chest.

"Then let's be on our way," the writer smiled back, relieved to no end that Lindsey's reception to the novel had been a good one.

About one hour later the newly married couple found themselves surrounded by several of their friends and family outside a private hanger, where a learjet courtesy of Andy Harcourt waited to take Lucas and Lindsey to the first of their many destinations picked out for their honeymoon. Of those who had made it, Skillz and Mia were the first to leave after wishing them well. They were soon followed by Mouth and Millicent, then Junk and Fergie. After saying her own farewell and assuring that Peyton and Brooke, who were the only two unaccounted for thus far, would show up in time to say bye, Haley led Jamie and Lily back towards her SUV.

"Later, bro," Nathan grinned with a casual salute before quickly following his wife of the last five and a half years.

"You're going to love it in Barcelona, my boy," Karen said, pinching her son's cheeks all of a sudden. "Andy took your sister and I there a few months ago, and Lily loved every second of it."

"Ma, could you not do that please?" Lucas groaned with a sidelong glance at his giggling wife and his mother's husband of the last three years.

"Karen, honey, please stop embarrassing the boy," Andy begged, looking slightly embarrassed as well.

"Fine, I'm sorry," she apologized with a laugh, pulling her hands away to drop them to her sides.

"You're such an ungrateful son, Luke," Lindsey joked, bumping her shoulder into his side. Lucas snorted in amusement and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, just enjoying the feel of his wife leaning into him.

"Looks like we made it just in time to say our goodbyes," came Brooke's trademarked raspy voice from behind the remaining group, her blonde girlfriend beside the fashion designer as they made their appraoch. "We would've been here alot sooner, but we kind of lost track of time, if you know what I mean."

"Discretion, thy name is Brooke Davis," Peyton sighed with a smirk, shaking her head at the now pouting brunette. "Sorry that we're late, guys."

"Well, you showed up and that's all that matters in the long run," the writer smiled.

"All the bags are loaded, Mister Hargrove," the pilot informed, apparently having made his own approach unnoticed thanks to Brooke and Peyton. "We're ready for take off whenever the happy couple is."

"Thanks, Jeff," Andy nodded to the now departing pilot.

"Come on, let's go grab Lily and head back to the house," Karen offered, grasping her husband by the hand. "Bye, kids. Have fun."

"Thanks, Ma," Lucas waved back.

"Wow, we really did just make it in time, huh?" Brooke asked, brow raised in surprise.

"Yeah, I suppose you did," Lindsey agreed, coming forward to embrace the brunette with her free arm. "Thanks for coming to see us off, all the same though."

"It's really no problem, Linds," the designer chuckled, returning the hug in kind. "You guys have fun with your tour of Europe, okay?"

"I'm sure we will, Brooke," Lucas said, pulling the fashionista into a hug. "And thank you for being a great friend, even though I didn't deserve you as one alot of the time."

"It was my pleasure, Broody," she rasped.

"What do you have there?" Peyton asked, obviously referring to what her former rival was carrying.

"A gift for you," Lindsey smiled while handing the manuscript to the blonde, somehow seeming to know what Lucas had intended to do with it in the first place. "We'll need it back though when we return from Europe, but until then keep it safe for us."

"The Comet: a boy's tale of growing up and letting go," Peyton read aloud before turning her gaze to Lucas. "Is this...?"

"Yeah, it's the first draft for the new novel," he nodded, then added with a soft chuckle. "Hopefully, you won't be hitting me with this one after you're done reading it."

"I have a feeling that won't be the case this time," she chuckled, tucking the manuscript under her arm before stepping forward to surprise Lucas by hugging him tightly with her free arm like Lindsey had done earlier. "You take care of your girl now, Scott," the blonde said into his ear. "You're lucky to have her."

"Right back at you, Sawyer," he returned, releasing his hold on Peyton in order to grasp his wife's hand. "See you girls when we get back."

"See ya," both girls said at the same time.

Lucas glanced at the woman who he'd be spending the rest of his life with and couldn't help but smile brightly at her. "Shall we be off, Mrs. Scott?"

"Just lead the way, Mr. Scott," Lindsey smiled back just as brightly.

**End scene.**

**Yeah, I kind of debated on whether or not I should have Lucas redeem himself or have Lindsey leave him standing at the altar, but somebody pointed out that almost everybody in the fic seemed unhappy so I went with the former. Either way though, I hope y'all liked it.  
Oh, and please review after reading. Thanks!**

**Track 27 ~ 'You Each Time' by Ani DiFranco (from 'Educated Guess')**


	28. Snakes & Ladders

_A/N- I was originally going to have some SKIA cuteness in this chapter, but it didn't quite feel right to me. So...yeah. Enjoy!_

**28 - Snakes & Ladders**

(Haley)

"Hey, Max, it's been a while," Haley greeted upon entering the studio.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Haley James Scott," the lanky bearded man grinned. "Did Peyton somehow convince you to sign with us, too?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but my singing days are behind me," she laughed. "Besides, I have my hands full with being both a mom and teacher as it is anyway."

"Oh, that's too bad," Max said, seemingly unsurprised by her answer. "Well, since you're not here to record a new album, how can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Peyton actually," she returned. "Is she around?"

"Yeah, but she's in session with Mia right now, so you can wait for her in the office if you like," he informed Haley with a nod.

"Okay, thanks," the young mother nodded back.

After Max showed her into Peyton's office, Haley sat quietly and casually studied the decor as this was the first time that she had actually visited Red Bedroom Records. That realization brought on some momentary guilt, but the short brunette shrugged it off since she knew that Peyton would understand that Haley's own hectic schedule was to blame for the oversight. A schedule that would be that much more hectic when Carrie headed back to college in the fall.

"I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long, Hales," Peyton said, entering the office with Mia directly behind her. "But 'Little Miss Perfectionist' here demanded that we re-do her cover of 'Hallelujah' for the twentieth time."

"Sue me if I want to do Leonard Cohen's classic the justice it deserves," the musician defended with a roll of her eyes, while plopping down into the chair next to Haley. Mia glanced over at Haley with an expectant look on her face. "Am I right, Haley?"

"I...don't think I should get in the middle of this," she said, backing down at the sharp look Peyton shot her way.

"Chicken," Mia teased.

"Anyway, what brings you here, Hales?" Peyton segued with a chuckle.

"I was just in the neighborhood and realized that I have yet to get the grand tour of your studio," she answered. From the expression on Peyton's face, Haley could tell she'd unintentionally put her friend on the spot. Before the blonde could say anything though, her cellphone went off to effectively disrupt their conversation.

"Sorry, I've got to take this," Peyton apologized, then began to walk out of the room with the cell pressed to her ear. "Hello? Yes, this is Peyton..."

"How's the album coming along?" Haley asked when it was just Mia and herself.

"It's more or less done, we just have to send another demo to Peyton's contact in Los Angeles for distribution purposes," a now excited Mia grinned, bouncing up and down in her seat. "And once my album gets distributed, we can begin planning a promotional tour for September!"

"That sounds great, Mia," Haley smiled, the younger woman's excitement reminding her of a time when she'd been in the same position. It felt like an entirely different life now, but she still looked back on most of her time touring with the Wreckers in fondness. And while she wouldn't want to change a single moment of the past for anything, Haley couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like if she'd continued on that path.

"Hello? Earth to Haley James Scott," her younger counterpart waved, trying to recapture Haley's meandering attention. "You alright?"

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Didn't mean to zone out like that," Haley apologized.

"Reliving the good old days, huh?" Mia asked.

"Something like that," she admitted.

"You could always make a comeback," the other girl suggested.

"And what? Leave my job and family behind, both of which I love?" Haley replied without any sort of harshness. "I don't think so, Mia."

"Well, what if yo-"

"That son of a bitch!" Peyton shouted, storming back into the office so suddenly that both Mia and Haley were rendered speechless. "I can't believe he'd stoop this fucking low! Oh, who am I kidding? This is exactly the type of shit that bastard would try to pull! But he won't get away with this, not while I'm alive! No fucking way!"

"Dude, what's going on?" Mia cried, being the first of the two other women to recover from the blonde's profanity filled rant. "Who are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about my ex-boss, Jon Knight," she seethed. "Biggest fucking sleaze bag the world has ever seen!"

"You have got to calm down, Peyton, or you're going to give yourself a coronary," Haley soothed.

"No, what I need to do is get on the next plane to LA and clean this mess up in person, or everything Mia and I have worked so hard to do will be for nothing," Peyton breathed in anger, nostrils flaring.

"If that's the case, then I'm coming, too," Mia declared, standing from her chair to stand near the irrate producer. Haley did the same, not really knowing what else to do.

"No, you stay here and help Max keep this place running while I'm gone," the blonde sighed, visibly forcing herself to calm down. "Besides, this mess is my fault because of the way I told him off when I quit."

"Why did you quit?" Haley asked.

"Aside from constantly trying to sleep with me, the bastard never listened to my advice and liked to take credit of other people's work."

"And I thought Chris Keller was sleazy," the shorter girl marvelled.

"However much of an asshole Chris Keller was, Hales, he has absolutely nothing on Jon Knight," Peyton stated before turning back to her other friend. "When I get back, we'll begin planning your big tour, okay?"

"Fine," Mia relented, arms crossed over her chest.

"I'll help any way I can," offered Haley.

"Thanks, Hales," the now much calmer blonde said while brushing some errant curls back away from her eyes, a ragged sigh escaping her lips in the process. "I need to get home and pack, then tell Brooke to cancel those reseverations to Luciano's tomorrow night. She's going to pitch a fit. She was really looking forward to that."

"I'll bet," Haley agreed, knowing how long the waiting list for that particular restaurant could get. She and her husband had been trying to get reservations there for months, their attempts all coming up empty. As though on cue Haley received a text from Nathan.

_[great news come home quick]_

"The ball and chain calls?" Mia joked.

"Indeed he does," she chuckled, then glanced at Peyton. "Have a safe trip."

"Thanks," the blonde replied with a small smile. "Say hi to the family for me."

"Will do," Haley nodded. "See you guys later."

"_Vios con dios_," Mia cried to her back.

"You are such a nerd," the former tutor heard Peyton say to her roommate.

Fifteen minutes after leaving Red Bedroom Records, Haley arrived home to find Nathan and Jamie waiting for her in the living room, both of whom looked extremely excited.

"Momma, guess what happened to Papa!" Jamie cried, the little blonde dynamo rushing forward to greet his mother with hug.

"Ooh, what happened to Papa?" Haley quizzed back with a smile.

Her son grinned up at Haley. "He got a letter!"

"A letter?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at her husband. "And whom is this letter from?"

"The Charlotte Bobcats!" Nathan and Jamie cried at the same time, their excitement doing nothing to hide how they'd rehearsed this presentation.

"Oh, my God!" Haley cried, joining her family in their celebration. It wasn't until later, while in the process of making a small celebratory dinner for her two men, that Haley's previous worries returned to the forefront of her mind. Despite this realization though, she couldn't bring herself to say anything about those worries. It had been too long since Haley seen her husband like this, and the young mother and teacher refused to be the one to ruin her family's current good mood.

(Millicent)

"I'm sorry to hear that, Brooke," Millie said in sympathy, her hand delicately laid atop the stairwell rail. She was halfway up to the apartment that Mouth shared with his best friend, 'Skillz' Antwon Taylor, when her cellphone had gone off and forced her to stop to answer it. The assistant was surprised by the call, even more so though at the clarity of the signal she received, "So you want me to cancel the reservations at Luciano's then?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to take Mouth there," Brooke said. "I mean, it seems a bit of a waste to let them go to someone else. Especially when you went through all that trouble getting them for me in the first place!"

"Oh, I'll see if I can get them to do that," she smiled in the receiver. "Marvin will be thrilled."

"Well, you deserve some perks for everything you do for me, Millie," her boss replied. "Okay, I've got to drive Peyton to the airport now. And maybe grab a quickie in the process! Bye, Mills."

"Uh, bye, Brooke," Millicent laughed, still sometimes caught offguard by the fashionista's ability to over-share her intentions. Millie shook her head in amusement and pocketed the cellphone, then resumed her way up to her previous destination. She climbed the remaining three flights and raised her hand to knock on the door, only to have it open to reveal Skillz on the way out. "Oh, hello!"

"Hey, Millie," he greeted back with his usual half-smirk. "Marv's still at work. He said somethin' about grabbin' some overtime."

"Oh, yes, I know," the assistant nodded, her left hand held up to display a bare wrist. "I just came by to pick up my bracelet. I think I may have left it here last night."

"Coo', the spare key is on top the fridge," he nodded back, stepping aside to allow her entry. "I'll be headin' over to my shorty's for the night, so lock up before you leave, ah-ight?"

"Okay, say hi to Mia for me," Millie smiled, breezing by her boyfriend's best friend into the apartment. She heard Skillz give her one last over-the-shoulder farewell before the door clicked shut behind him. Now alone in the somewhat dark apartment, Millicent grabbed the spare key from where Antwon told her it would be and then headed towards the place she remembered having worn the silver piece of jewelry, which was Marvin's bedroom.

Millicent blushed at the memory of what had happened between herself and Marvin the night before, where she'd finally given him something the young woman had never given anybody. It had hurt at first, but Millie didn't regret making love to her boyfriend of the last two months.

"Now, let's see," Millicent mumbled under her breath, the brunette's spectacled gaze on the night stand. _If it fell off here, then maybe...?_

She knelt down on the carpeted floor and reached under the bed, more or less whooping when her fingers came into contact with cool metal. Millie smiled brightly at the silver bangle that Marvin had given her last night, happy to have it back on her wrist after momentarily losing it in her rush to return home to get ready for work that morning. As soon as Millicent had secured her treasure back where it belonged though, her purse slipped to the floor with a soft thump, some of its content spilling out onto the carpet.

_Smooth move, Huxtable,_ she snorted with a roll of her eyes. Once again kneeling down to retrieve her bag and the few items that had escaped its confines, Millie's hand brushed up against a crumpled piece of paper. She picked it up with the intention of tossing the lined loose-leaf into the garbage, but froze when taking notice of the unfamilar handwriting.

"I really, really shouldn't," Millicent whispered to herself, only to unfold the letter to begin reading it against her better judgement.

_Dear Mouth,_

_By the time you read this, I'll be long gone from Tree Hill. Hell, I won't even be in North America. I'll probably be somewhere like Tokyo or Paris, out scouting the globe for talent that'll help Clothes Over Bros. Now before you do something stupid like chase after me, I want you to STOP RIGHT NOW. Don't you dare try and follow me.  
You're probably asking why, right? It's simple really. Because I love you, and I'll always love you, but I have to let you go. Believe me when I say that it's truly for the best, and you deserve the best. That's why I don't want you to come after me. So please let me go, too, Marvin.  
Be happy with Millicent. She's a great girl, and she'll take care of you better than I ever could hope to. Marry the girl, have a ton of kids. Love her like you loved me once apon a time, let yourself be happy. Don't worry about me and don't you dare feel guilty about it either.  
You're probably saying to yourself that I'm running again, and you'd probably be right. At least partially anyway. I'm not running for myself this time though. I'm running for you, because if I stay I'll just continue to be a reminder of our past and a constant distraction to you and Millicent. I think you'd have to agree that what happened at the engagement party was proof enough of that, right?  
So I run, but not before I beg you one last favor. Leave the past behind and embrace the future. If what we used to have meant anything to you at all, you'll do this for me. Please.  
See you around, Gorgeous._

_Rachel_

With shaky hands and tears sliding down her cheeks, Millicent all but plopped onto the bed where she had given Marvin her most precious gift just over twelve hours earlier.

"This can't be happening," Millie whispered softly while crumpling the letter in her hands. She thought back on the last few weeks on how Marvin had been behaving and the assistant came to a sudden realization. The week immediately following Lucas and Lindsey's engagement party, her boyfriend had been acting a little weird. She just thought it was the fact that one of his best friends was getting married that was making Marvin antsy, but now after reading that letter Millie knew it had more to do with his ex-girlfriend than any possible issues with commitment. At least, not any that pertained to her. Her gaze fell on the bracelet that she'd come here to find and slipped it off her wrist, then flung it across the room with all her might. It bounced back off the wall with a loud clank to almost strike her in the face, but Millie didn't take much notice.

_I'm his second choice,_ Millicent sniffled, her cellphone now in hand from the pocket she'd shoved it into earlier. She absently hit the first name on her speed dial. _I'm his second choice, when he was my first. Oh, God, this can't be happening!_

A familar rasp quickly answered, "Hello?"

"Brooke?" Millie managed to say before being overcome with sobs.

(Mouth)

_What a long-ass day,_ Mouth groaned, practically limping into his apartment at ten o'clock. His boss was a real ball-buster, but he somehow managed to survive another day of the over-bearing woman to make it home again. He had just closed the front door when the sound of somebody letting out a fake cough caught his attention, which sounded very familiar to him for some odd reason. "Brooke?"

"Mister McFadden," she greeted back in obvious forced politeness.

"Uh-oh," Marvin said, instantly knowing that trouble was on its way. He recognized that tone, having heard it directed at anybody stupid enough to find themselves on the wrong end of Brooke Davis' fury. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you what's going on," began the former queen of Tree Hill High, her hazel eyes narrowed at him.

"Brooke," Millie cut in. "I can handle this from here."

"You sure, hon?" Brooke asked, like her assistant was made of glass.

"Yeah, wait for me downstairs," she nodded.

"Okay, I'll be in the car," the fashionista nodded back, a reassuring hand placed on the other woman's arm. She brushed by Mouth a moment later, sending him a cold look along the way.

"What is going on?" Mouth repeated, uneasy. "Millie?"

"This is what's going on, Marvin," she whispered, something held up in her hand.

He frowned, "And what is that?"

"This is an airplane ticket to Milan," Millie informed, her voice a little unsteady. "Now before I explain any further, I need you to answer a question for me."

"Wha-"

"You just need to answer my question," she interupted with a shrill shout. "Then I'll tell you what's going on, Marvin!"

"Alright, alright, calm down," Mouth stepped forward, hands held up in front of him.

"Don't even think about taking another step," the usually timid brunette warned through clenched teeth. She took a deep breath to regain her composure after Marvin returned to his previous position, an errie quiet descending on the room. "Now..."

He gave her a blank stare, quietly prodding her to continue.

"What happened between you and Rachel at the engagement party?"

"What? Did Haley..." Mouth sputtered.

"Haley didn't say anything to me," Millie interupted. "But it does explain why she hasn't been in CoB in the last couple of weeks." She paused for a second. "Now answer the question."

He sighed and stared at the floor, then relunctantly answered. "We kissed."

"I have a feeling it's more than that," she pressed, to which Mouth could only bring himself to nod in agreement. "Did you fuck her?" Another silence past by without Mouth saying anything, which resulted in her repeating the question at a higher volume. "Did you fuck her, Marvin?"

Marvin winced, unused to hearing his usually demure girlfriend curse. "No, we didn't...do that."

"But you wanted to fuck her, didn't you?" Millicent accused, her heels clicking as she approached him. "Didn't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, finally looking up. "I'm sorry, Millie. I know it was wrong, but we just got caught up in the moment and-"

"Shush," she whispered, a finger pressed onto his lips. He noticed the tear streaks on her face, her brown eyes rimmed pink from recently crying. "Don't say anymore."

The pair stood in another pregnant silence until Millicent finally broke it.

"I love you, Marvin. Last night I proved that by letting you be my first," Millicent lovingly caressed his face, her confession surprising him. She surprised Marvin even more though with her next action when the assistant suddenly brought her hand hard across his cheek. "But I refuse to be your consolation prize."

He watched Millie walk towards the door, her back to him. "Millie..."

"When you get to Milan," Millicent rasped over her shoulder to cut him off. "Tell Rachel that we're even now. She'll know what I mean. Goodbye, Marvin."

A speechless Marvin McFadden swallowed hard against the dryness of his mouth, unable to move from where he found himself rooted to the floor as the door closed with a resounding click.

**End scene.**

**That last part was hard to write since I actually do like the Mouth and Millicent pairing on the show. I especially like it when Millie gets all rowdy. Also, I think I may have gotten Millie's eye color wrong. Oh, well.**

**Anyway, please feel free to review. Thanks!**

**Track 28 ~ 'Snakes & Ladders' by Basia Bulat (from 'Oh, My Darling')**


	29. Tomorrow Start Today

**29 - Tomorrow Starts Today**

(Brooke)

_Okay, kid, you're being really obvious right now,_ Brooke thought with her hazel gaze fixated on the teenaged girl who'd wandered into the store almost ten minutes earlier. The girl had most definitely been scoping the place out apon arrival, her shifty behavior a dead give away to anybody with half of a functioning brain. The designer continued to watch the high schooler like a hawk, ready to pounce when the girl finally made her move. So intense was her concentration though that when the store phone rang, Brooke let out a small yelp of surprise.

"I'm still watching you," Brooke lowly muttered whilst lifting the receiver, her eyes narrowed at the now smirking teenager. "Hello?"

"Hey, B Davis," her girlfriend's voice chirped. "How you doing?"

"Hey, P Sawyer," she greeted back with a grin, her surveilance of the suspicious acting teenager forgotten the instant the fashion designer heard Peyton's voice. "It's so good to hear from you. I miss you."

"I miss you, too, babe," the blonde returned.

"How much longer are you stuck out there?" Brooke whined.

"I don't know exactly, but I'm thinking Friday night at the latest," Peyton answered, which brought a smile to Brooke's lips. "And I was thinking that maybe we can try that special dinner again. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a great idea, Peyt," she rasped, happy to hear that her girlfriend would be back in Tree Hill soon. The last four days had been hell and the next three wouldn't be much better, but at least Brooke now had a time frame on when she'd see her lover next. "Wish it could be sooner."

"Me, too. Look, babe, I've gotta go now, but I'll call you before I go to bed tonight," her girlfriend promised. "I love you, Brookie Cookie."

"I love you, too, Goldilocks," Brooke returned before hanging up the phone with a sigh, only to freeze at the distinct sound of hardwood squeaking under sneaker tread. She snapped her head around to find that the teenager was halfway towards the door. Her narrowed hazel eyes met the younger brown ones that were now wide with fear, the two brunettes' gazes locked until the teenager decided to make a run for it.

"Oh, shit," the teenager swore, tripping up enough to send her crashing to the floor for a brief moment. Her bag fell open to reveal that she'd managed to stuff some clothing inside. "Uh, fuck!"

"Get back here with my stuff, you little shit!" Brooke cried, rushing around the counter in order to chase down the teen girl.

"I don't think so, Princess," the girl retorted, once more on her feet with bag in hand while dashing towards the front door. She had reached it just as Brooke managed to grab hold of an errand cloth sticking from the bag, which immediately brought the two into a desperate tug-of-war for the article of clothing. "Let go, you crazy bitch!"

"It's my dress, I designed it," an irate Brooke shrieked, gripping firmly to the garment. "You let go, you little snot!"

"What the heck is going on here?" Millicent cried from the now open front door.

"Oh, screw this," the girl cried, bowling passed Millie so fast that the assistant lost her balance and nearly fell to the floor.

"If I ever see you again, I'm gonna kick your butt!" Brooke screamed down the street at the rapidly retreating young thief. She then turned to her slightly distressed personal assistant, who was still leaning against the door in shock. "Are you alright, Mills?"

"Were we just robbed?" Millicent asked, brown eyes wide.

"Yeah, I think we were," the fashion icon sighed angrily, not looking forward to doing inventory to see exactly what the teenager had managed to nab. _I am so kicking that girl's ass if I ever see her again! Wait a second,_ she frowned, turning to face Millicent. "What are you doing here? I thought I explicitly told you to take the next few days off."

"I know you did, and while I appreciate that gesture, I'm going nuts at home with nothing to do," Millie told her with a annoyed sigh. "Also, I just got an e-mail from Calliope."

"What did she have to say?" Brooke asked, knowing that Calliope would only get in touch with Millicent or herself if it were very important.

"She wasn't much on the details, but it seems that _She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ tried to meet with some of our executives earlier this afternoon," her personal assistant informed. "Calliope told me that most of them didn't give the hag the time of day, but I seriously doubt this'll be her last attempt at trying to usurp control of the company though."

"Oh, this is just great," the fashion designer muttered in frustration, fingers pressed against her temples. "Just freaking great."

"Don't worry about this though, I'll take care of it," Millie assured.

"What? I can't ask you to do that," protested Brooke.

"You don't have to ask me, Brooke, I'm more than happy to do it," Millicent stated. "Besides, I need a break from Tree Hill and all its drama anyway."

"Are you sure, Mills?" Brooke asked, sympathetic to her friend's recently broken heart. "Because, I cou-"

"I'm already packed and ready to go," her assistant interjected with a nod. "So it's really just a matter of getting on the next plane to New York."

"When everything is squared up, I want you to come straight back here," Brooke ordered with a rasp, reaching forward to pull Millie into a hug. "Because you're not just my personal assistant, Mills. You're also my friend. So hurry back, okay?"

"I will," she promised, returning the hug.

After Millicent had left for the airport, a melancholic Brooke stood alone in the boutique. Her gaze drifted to where a mannequin had been knocked over during her brief struggle with the shoplifter, which she attempted to right before shoving it back to the floor in a moment of pent up frustration being released. _So this is how Peyton felt when Rachel left._

"No wonder why she was so pissed off," Brooke muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

(Rachel)

_I wish I could get over this stupid jet-lag already,_ an annoyed Rachel Gattina groaned, still unable to fully adjust to Milan time even after having spent the last two or three weeks here. She sat up in her queen sized bed and let out a gigantic yawn, then rose from it to more or less stumbled into the lavish hotel bathroom. She stripped off her pajama pants and the black Rancid concert tee that Peyton had given the red-head for her last birthday, then proceeded to take a shower before getting ready for the day.

One hour later Rachel was waiting near the front entrance of the hotel to wait for the taxi that would take the red-head to the first of many meetings and photoshoots that required her attendence, when she heard someone say something to her she didn't understand due to it being in Italian. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, you're American," the speaker stated, a posh English accent doing nothing to hide her surprised delight.

"You're an observant one," Rachel smirked.

"Feisty as well as beautiful," she returned without missing a beat. "But then again, I shouldn't be too surprised. You're Rachel Gattina, right?"

"Okay, really observant," the red-head said, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Don't act too shocked, Miss Gattina," the attractive British woman said, now wearing a smirk of her own. "Not everybody has forgotten who you are. It hasn't been that long since you dominated every runway from New York to Tokyo."

"You have me at quite the disadvantage," she pointed out, her interest piqued by this olive skinned beauty. "And your name is?"

"How rude of me, not introducing myself like that," the other woman smiled, her lithe hand extended toward Rachel. "Miranda Stone."

"Well, Miranda Stone, it looks as though my ride is here," the former model gestured to the approaching taxi. "See you around."

"I certainly hope so, Miss Gattina," Miranda smiled.

For the rest of the day Rachel couldn't get the attractive Brit out of her head, which was a welcome change from the hurt that had been lingering in her heart since leaving Tree Hill, even if half of what she heard during her various meetings and photoshoots that day went in one ear and out the other. The red-head hoped that she'd run into Miranda again. The universe owed her that much after the whole Millicent-Mouth debacle, right? At the very least this Miranda girl could help distract Rachel from her shattered heart. And there was always the off-chance that this could develope into something more later on.

_Okay, you're getting ahead of yourself, Gattina,_ the copper haired vixen chided herself with a shake of her head. _Time to focus on the job at hand._

When Rachel had completed her obligated meetings and had spoken with a few of the models and photographers affliated with Clothes Over Bros, the red-head decided to return back to the hotel so she could grab some room serviced food before going to bed so she could do it all over again the next day. And hopefully she'd finally get over her lingering fatigue as well.

"Well, this is quite the pleasant surprise," a smirking Miranda declared apon her entrance of the hotel lobby. "You wouldn't happen to be stalking me, would you, Miss Gattina?

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing," she smiled back.

"Maybe I am," the olive skinned woman returned. "But the only way you'll find out for certain is if you join me for dinner. What do you say?"

"You're pretty forward," Rachel remarked. "I like that."

Miranda quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a yes?"

"It's a yes, but I'd like to head up to my room to change first," she answered, thumb hiked toward the elevator. "Say...twenty minutes?"

"Then it's a date," Miranda agreed with a wide smile. "Twenty minutes and don't be late, or you may end up hurting my feelings."

"I'll meet you back here in twenty minutes," Rachel promised, then turned away to head towards the elevator. When Rachel entered her room, the former supermodel immediately went over to her wardrobe to decide what she'd wear on this date. Miranda had said herself that this was a date downstairs, so whatever doubts Rachel may have had harbored beforehand were now swept aside. She hurriedly chose the light green dress that complimented her eyes, then checked the mirror to touch up her make-up. With her preparations complete in record time, the red-head exitted her room and re-entered the elevator. The doors closed only to re-open ten seconds later to reveal Miranda standing there, both momentarily surprised by their meeting here.

"Going my way?" Rachel smirked, recovering first.

"Definitely," Miranda returned.

As soon as the statuesque woman entered the elevator, Rachel pressed the button for the main floor again. The pair shared shy little glances during the ride down, but neither seemed willing to make the first move. That is until the British woman, who'd been so brazen up to this moment, broke their stalemate.

"Bugger it," Miranda muttered under her breath.

Rachel moaned into the kiss that she suddenly found herself on the receiving end of, her back pressed against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Her hand slide into the British woman's wavy brown hair as their tongues warred for domination, neither paying much attention to their surroundings at that point. Rachel was only vaguely aware of the elevator doors opening and even then the red-head decided to ignore whoever might be there. Unfortunately for Rachel though, the universe had one last cruel trick to play on her.

"Uh, I'll just get the next one," the all-too-familiar voice of Marvin McFadden announced.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Rachel groaned, her fingers still entangled in the other woman's hair.

(Peyton)

"Man, I hate layovers," Peyton complained while glancing up at the flight schedule overhead, annoyed at the fact that she was stuck in Dallas until later that evening. Peyton knew that she had no right to complain, seeing as the blonde would be home alot sooner than she'd originally told Brooke. Her excitement at seeing her girlfriend after being seperated for the last week and a half was making Peyton very impatient though.

"Tell me about it," a man agreed from her right. "Layovers suck."

_Hey, I recognize that voice,_ a surprised Peyton thought, turning to find a familiar face staring back at her with definite amusement in his eyes. "Oh, my God! Jake Jygalsky? Is that you?"

"Hey, Peyton," her ex-boyfriend greeted. "It's been a while, huh?"

"To say the least," she laughed, throwing her arms around him. "It's been way too long!"

"I know what you mean," he agreed, returning the hug with equal vigor. "It's been what? Almost six years?"

"That sounds about right," the music producer nodded, taking a step back in order to get a better look at him. "Looking good, Jygalsky."

"Right back at you, Sawyer," he complimented in return.

"Why thank you, good sir," she drawled with an exaggerated Southern accent. "What are you doing in Dallas?"

"I was visiting my grandparents in Raleigh before my flight got re-routed here," he shrugged. "And you?"

"On my way back to Tree Hill from LA," Peyton replied. "Business trip."

"I was just about to grab a coffee," he segued, gesturing to a nearby coin-operated coffee machine. "Want one? I'll buy and then we can catch up."

"Sure," the blonde agreed.

Minutes later Peyton found herself laughing hard at a story that Jake was telling her about Jenny, his daughter, and how the little girl had gotten in trouble at school for pantsing several boys in her class.

"And there I am, barely able to keep a straight face the entire time this prudish old teacher was ranting on how this was no way 'a proper young lady' should act," he continued with a bad impersonation of said teacher. "After about another minute or so of him ranting, I couldn't help myself and just completely lost my shit."

"That is the most hilarious thing I've ever heard," the blonde laughed.

"Glad somebody else finds it funny, 'cause Jenny's teacher is still pissed at me for that," Jake added before finishing his coffee.

"So, where is Jenny anyway?" Peyton asked.

"She's on vacation with her mom in Florida right now," he answered.

Peyton frowned. "And you're okay with that?"

"Not much I can do about it," he shrugged, like he'd accepted it a long time ago. "After the last custody hearing three years ago, we both decided that we didn't want to put Jenny in that position anymore and agreed to our current arrangement."

"Which is?"

"Nikki has her on weekdays, while I get her on weekends and holidays," he answered. "And since we both live in the Phoenix area, it all works out pretty well."

"Well, as long as you're happy," she stated.

"Anyway, enough about me," Jake replied, changing the subject. "What's up with you? Did you ever get around to telling Brooke how you feel about her?"

"That is a very long story," Peyton stated.

"We've both got the time, so lay it on me," he insisted.

"Okay, but you better get comfortable, because this may take a while," she warned before beginning the lengthy tale of her and Brooke's rollercoaster relationship over the years. She told him about her first confession in Brooke's bedroom during senior year and how happy they'd been back then. She told him about their engagement and subsequent breakup thanks to Victoria's manipulation. She told him about how Rachel had saved her life in Los Angeles afterword and how she'd always be grateful to the red-head for that. She told him about moving back to Tree Hill and the long, painful road that she and Brooke had taken to find their way back to one another. She also told him something that she hadn't told anybody else yet, not even Brooke herself.

"I'm afraid she's going to break my heart again," Peyton confessed.

"You've always been way too cynical for your own good, Peyton," he stated.

"With good reason though," she countered.

Jake placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe, but the past is the past, Peyton. And I think Brooke is on the up and up this time. So either commit for the long haul or let her go before it's too late."

"Flight 341 to Phoenix, Arizona is now boarding at Gate 21," a voice announced over the intercom. "I repeat, Flight 341 to Phoenix, Arizona is now boarding at Gate 21."

"Looks like my ride is here," he stated, rising from his seat. "It was good seeing you again, Peyton."

The blonde rose from her seat as well, then closed the distance between them to give Jake one last long hug. Might as well since it was unlikely they'd ever see each other again. "Yeah, it was good to see you, too, Jake."

"Think about what I said," Jake told her before walking away.

"I will," she promised.

Once Jake left her line of sight, Peyton sat back down to wait for her own flight to arrive. Her mind wandered back to the conversation she'd just had with her former boyfriend, then to everything that had happened between herself and Brooke in the last few months. After another moment of careful consideration, Peyton came to a decision right then and there. A decision that the blonde felt was the best for all parties involved. She pulled her cellphone from her pocket and hit the first number on her speed dial, then waited impatiently for an answer.

"Hello?" Brooke rasped.

"So I'm in Dallas right now and I've been doing alot of thinking," Peyton stated into the cell. "And before you say anything, Brooke, just know that I didn't come to this decision lightly."

"Okay," her girlfriend replied, sounding worried.

"I don't think we should date anymore," the blonde said, quickly adding before Brooke could let out any sort of protest. "Marry me."

"What?" Brooke whispered, obviously bewildered.

"Brooke Penelope Davis," a very anxious Peyton said in a voice tightening from barely restrained emotion, her viridian eyes pooling with unshed tears. "Will you marry me?"

**End story.**

**To be continued in 'Born to Fly', which will come out some time in January.**

**Story Playlist  
1) Empty - Metric  
2) Romance to the Grave - Broken Social Scene  
3) Bottom of the World - Emily Haines & the Soft Skeleton  
4) Long Time Running - the Tragically Hip  
5) Weak In the Knees - Serena Ryder  
6) Walking With a Ghost - Tegan & Sara  
7) Try Honesty - Billy Talent  
8) Hasn't Hit Me Yet - Blue Rodeo  
9) Ignorance - Paramore  
10) Goodbye to You - Michelle Branch  
11) Let Go - Frou Frou  
12) So Says I - the Shins  
13) Thunder - Boys Like Girls  
14) There's A Class For This - Cute Is What We Aim For  
15) Mood Swing - Luscious Jackson  
16) You Oughta Know - Alanis Morrisette  
17) Weight - Sarah Slean  
18) No Girl So Sweet - PJ Harvey  
19) My Stupid Mouth - John Mayer  
20) American Love - Jack's Mannequin  
21) The Special Two - Missy Higgins  
22) Heavy - Collective Soul  
23) Love During Wartime - the Main Drag  
24) Say Anything - Marianas Trench  
25) Wish You Were - Kate Voegele  
26) Let It Die - Feist  
27) You Each Time - Ani DiFranco  
28) Snakes & Ladders - Basia Bulat  
29) Tomorrow Starts Today - Mobile**

**Thank you all for reading and please don't forget to review.**

**Sincerely,**

**Migs**


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